


The World Unknown

by blueraven1340



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11589795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraven1340/pseuds/blueraven1340
Summary: Izaya's roommate, Shinra, is having some difficulties in the romance department. Izaya's busy working as an information broker, but he can always make time for a friend in need. Especially if he can get something out of it. DROPPED





	1. First Meetings

Izaya looked up from his laptop. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, fingers paused over his keyboard, he looked his roommate straight in the face and said, “What?”

Shinra bounced off of his bed. “A double date!” he repeated. “Except, it won't be for you because my friend is straight, but this will be the perfect opportunity for me to finally ask Celty out!”

Scoffing, Izaya looked back down at his laptop. “And here I thought you'd finally found your balls lying around somewhere,” he said. He scrolled lazily through a forum. “Shinra, going out with a group of friends that happens to include her does not qualify as a date. It wasn't the last time or the time before that, and it won't be this time either. So quit asking me to go out with you guys. I'm an actual adult with a busy schedule, you know. Unlike some people.”

Shinra dropped down onto Izaya's bed, lying with his legs dangling off the side. “But this is different!” he said. “I'm inviting someone else this time. He _is_ straight, but who knows? Maybe you can get him to like you.”

“I'm not gonna throw myself at some straight guy,” Izaya said, rolling his eyes.

“But you can be charming when you want to be!” When Izaya didn't respond, Shinra poked him in the leg. “C'mon, _please?”_ he said. “All you have to do is lead Shizuo away from Celty and me, which won't be hard at all at a matsuri, and then just hang out with him for a couple hours. Even if he's not gay, he's a pretty interesting guy. He can lift things like two times his weight, no problem, and you should see him in a fight; he can beat up ten guys all by himself! That's actually how I met him – ”

“Are you trying to set me up or are you secretly planning to kill me?”

Shinra smiled. “I'm trying to get you interested,” he said.

“Either way, I'm not going.”

“Izaya,” Shinra whined, sitting up. “C'mon, the sooner I get with Celty, the sooner I can stop bothering you like this.”

Izaya sighed. “Then just ask her out like a normal human being,” he said, looking up. “She's our fucking roommate. You could just walk right next door and _ask._ You don't have to involve me in your stupid love life.”

Shinra dropped his smile. “Well then, I guess I don't _have_ to treat you the next time you come walking in with a bullet wound,” he said.

“And I guess I don't _have_ to keep my mouth shut about it instead of reporting you for medical malpractice.”

Shinra fell silent for a beat, but then he poked Izaya again. “C'mon, Izaya,” he said. “Please?”

Izaya sighed. He finished typing out an email and then checked his phone, sifting through the notifications.

“I'll think about it,” he said.

Shinra cheered, laughing, until Izaya kicked him out of his bed.

 

“Shizuo, these are my roommates.”

Shizuo looked over at the two people by Shinra's side, a girl and a boy, the girl pretty with light brown hair and green eyes, the guy skinny and staring. Shinra gestured to the girl.

“This is Celty Sturluson,” he said. “I've mentioned it to you before, but she has aphonia, so she can't speak. But she can still communicate using her phone.”

She held up her phone now, smiling.

[Nice to meet you.]

Shizuo smiled back. “Nice to meet you too,” he said.

“And this is Orihara Izaya,” Shinra said, gesturing to the guy. “He's not that great of a person. He's kind of an asshole actually, but I'm sure you guys will get along.”

This Orihara guy also had brown hair, but his was darker. He even smiled too, but whereas Celty's smile had looked somewhat nervous and somewhat gentle, this person smiled broadly, like he was evaluating Shizuo and laughing silently at something that he saw.

“That's awful, Shinra,” Orihara said. He stuck his hand out to Shizuo. “Shizu-chan, I promise I'm not that bad.”

Shizuo didn't take his hand. “The fuck is wrong with you?” he said, scowling. “Don't call me that.”

“Well, aren't you cute.” Orihara took his hand back, but those scrutinizing eyes lingered.

“What did you – ?!”

“C'mon guys, let's get going!” Shinra interrupted, glancing back and forth between them. “I'm starving.”

Shizuo dug his hands into his coat pockets, fuming, but he nodded his assent.

This had been a bad idea. He met Shinra just a few months ago, when he was out working with Tom. He was taking a break when some guy slammed into him, spilling scalding hot coffee all over his new, white shirt. Now, Shizuo wasn't unreasonable. If the guy had stopped to apologize sincerely, Shizuo could have gotten over it, and the stranger could have made it to his appointment, and the both of the them could have gone on with their lives, neither one remembering the other. The problem was the guy just kept on going, running off to wherever he needed to be – not that Shizuo cared – and that was when he lost it. The guy and everyone who tried to stop Shizuo after the first punch had it coming, anyway.

Afterwards, Tom came over to scold him, or more to shake his head than anything else, and his junior from high school suddenly showed up.

“That was amazing!” he said, after a hasty greeting to Tom. “I've never seen anything like you in my entire life!”

Shizuo looked at the eager eyes on this new stranger's face, his cotton-blue scrubs, and even though he was tired, Shizuo felt a new rush of rage overtake him. Lucky for Shinra, Tom recognized the danger signs and calmed him down before Shizuo could start beating the shit out of him.

Now in the past few months, the guy had been using Tom as an excuse to hang around Shizuo. He was fascinated, apparently, by Shizuo's strength. He wanted to know everything from Shizuo's family history to every single detail of his life up until now, but Shizuo more often growled at him than answered any of his questions. He annoyed Shizuo to no end, but after a few months, he got used to having the little doctor-in-training around. Anyway, he figured Shinra had to run out of questions at some point in time. So when he asked Shizuo to the matsuri, after Shizuo refused him multiple times and Tom sat Shizuo down to have a heart-to-heart talk about how little friends Shizuo actually had, Shizuo accepted the invitation.

But now? He was probably never going to cross the threshold out of his apartment ever again.

Celty and Shinra were ahead of them, cooing over some goldfish, while Shizuo was stuck in the crowd with this pest. Orihara was chattering on about something that sounded like the history of matsuris taken word-for-word from a fucking encyclopedia, but even if Shizuo had been interested in something like that, he couldn't hear half of what the guy was saying anyway. It was just the way he looked at Shizuo every now and then, those dark brown eyes glancing at him as if Shizuo was a particularly large spider he just couldn't leave alone. It was fucking annoying.

Suddenly, he grabbed Shizuo's hand. “Hey, there's takoyaki!” he said, pointing at a stand far off on the left. “Let's go get some!”

Shit, takoyaki actually sounded good. Shizuo tugged his hand out of Orihara's. “Fine,” he said, as if he was losing an argument somehow. “I'll go let them know.”

Orihara smirked and took Shizuo's hand again; this time, intertwining their fingers. “You're pretty stupid, aren't you?” he said.

“What?!”

“C'mon, we're blocking the crowd. We can catch up with them later.”

He tugged at their hands. People were bumping into him everywhere, staring with eyes that asked what the hell they were doing just standing like that, holding hands. Shizuo looked back at Orihara's smiling face. He tugged a little again.

“Come on,” he said.

Scowling, Shizuo started walking. After a few seconds, he at least tried to take his hand back. “Hey,” he growled. “Let go.”

Orihara glanced back at him, smiling. “Wouldn't want our Shizu-chan to get lost now, do we?”

Glaring, Shizuo tightened his hand around Orihara's. God, he wanted to kill him.

They weaved in between the people and the stands like that, holding hands. Orihara wore a ring. It was on his forefinger, just plain, slick metal, and Shizuo wondered why a man would wear something like that. In fact, Orihara was pretty well-dressed in general. He wore a long, tan coat and a black scarf with black jeans. Even though it was kind of cold, his coat was unbuttoned, revealing a pure, white shirt. Overall, he looked too put-together for a local matsuri, especially compared to Shizuo's puffy jacket and blue jeans.

Briefly, Shizuo wondered what kind of a man Orihara was: if he was rich, if he grew up with a nice family, if he was the type to have a lot of friends. Maybe he was all of that, and that's why he was so goddamn pushy. He would probably have better manners, though, if he came from a rich family.

“Are you getting any?”

Shizuo blinked, staring at Orihara, who was staring back. He quickly looked away and noticed that they had reached the takoyaki stand.

“Uh, maybe,” he said. “I don't know how much money I brought with me.”

Orihara waved at him, finally letting go of their hands. “It's fine, I'll treat you.”

“You sure?” Shizuo said, too shocked to say anything else. He put his hand back in his coat pocket. The flea's hand had been bone-cold.

Orihara laughed. “You don't have to look so surprised,” he said. He turned to the vendor and ordered two sticks of takoyaki, which steamed in the air. Shizuo accepted his with a mumbled thanks.

“So,” Orihara said as they walked and ate. “I heard that you work as a loan shark instead of going to school. Is that right?”

Shizuo scowled. “I help Tom, who's a debt collector.”

“Hm, so you're his bodyguard. Seems fitting, you look terrifying enough with that face and blond hair.”

Shizuo took an angry bite from his takoyaki. “What about you?” he growled. “You studying how to be a major asshole or something?”

“Shinra didn't tell you anything about me?”

“No.”

Orihara grinned, licking takoyaki sauce off his lips. “And yet he told you all about Celty-san, even though I'm one who actually shares a room with him. How cold!”

“Well, Celty-san seems a lot nicer to hang around with than you.”

“How can you say that?” Orihara said, laughing. “You just met us.”

“I trust my instincts.”

“And? What exactly do your instincts say about me?”

“That you're evil.”

At this, Orihara looked up at Shizuo, his eyes wide in a sudden shock that surprised him. Orihara brought up a hand to cover his mouth, and for a real second, Shizuo thought that he was going to cry. Then he burst out laughing.

“Evil!” he said, leaning against a nearby bench. “Who _says_ that?”

Shizuo pushed him, unable to hold back, at least, not with this guy. Orihara fell to the ground, but he only sat there, still laughing.

“Shut up!” Shizuo said, blushing despite himself.

“I won't,” he said, wheezing. “Because I'm _evil_.”

“I said shut up!” Shizuo dropped down on top of him to punch him, strangle him, to make him just _shut up_ one way or another, but in the blink of an eye, he had a knife to his throat.

“I highly recommend you _don't_ do that,” Orihara said, not laughing anymore. He was smiling though, everything from that thin-lipped smirk to the edge of his weapon whispering out a deadly challenge.

Shizuo could feel it infecting him, the dare in this man's eyes, and slowly, he felt himself smiling back.

Then a familiar voice spoke up behind them.

“There you guys are!”

Startled, Shizuo looked around. Shinra was approaching them with a strained smile, Celty just behind him. “We were looking all over for you!” he said.

Orihara sat up – well, as much as he could with Shizuo on top of him. His knife had disappeared. “Really?” he said, eyebrow raised.

Shinra shot him a warning look as he reached them, which amused Shizuo. So this flea could get even Shinra angry. “Really,” he said.

Celty stepped up, her phone raised.

[Are you guys okay?]

“Just getting to know each other,” Orihara said smoothly.

Scowling, Shizuo got up, not bothering to help the flea up too. He didn't seem to notice. Orihara just stood up and brushed himself off with the usual smile on his face, rearranging his scarf.

Shinra glanced at Orihara. “I see,” he said. “Well...come on! Celty says that she wants to try the takoyaki here.”

“It's not that great, you know,” Orihara said, laughing as he followed them.

Shizuo waited a second before going too, taking in deep breaths as he tried to calm the blood that was pumping out almost painfully from his too-fast heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got the inspiration for this story from pinterest, of course. It was this picture of Izaya: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AaftQ166lbRJyzW2ePJHV4r0QqW6QPnHxhGeaHIfLSCdFIKPOoXQ9cI/ which is the outfit I have him wearing at the matsuri. I know it's kind of weird for Shizuo to refer to him as "Orihara", but I figured it makes more sense for now, since they don't know each other that well yet. Emphasis on "yet." Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one!


	2. How Are You?

“You could learn how to do stitches on your own, you know,” Shinra said.

Izaya kept his arm on Shinra's desk, refusing to flinch even as the needle jabbed in and out of his skin. He smiled. “Why would I do that,” he said, “when I know just how much enjoyment you get out of this?”

“I'm not a sadist like you,” Shinra said, laughing anyway.

“And who's the one stabbing a needle into me right now? You won't even give me any painkillers.”

“It's a lot easier to steal a few needles and thread than painkillers,” Shinra said, tugging a little on the string. Izaya didn't move, but his fingers twitched. “Anyway, you're right. You're more a masochist than a sadist.”

“More like you're trying to justify your actions right now,” Izaya said. “But it's ironic, isn't it? Doctors, as healers, are almost constantly surrounded by pain and suffering. They're even the ones who deal it, sometimes. I wonder how many of them actually are sadistic, choosing their profession only as a simultaneous denial of their nature as well as fulfillment of it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Izaya cocked his head, smiling. “You don't think you're one of them?”

“One of what?”

“The evil doctors.”

“What does it matter?”

Izaya leaned back in his chair as Shinra finished up, looking at the neat, white bandage on his forearm with the apathy of experience. “I guess it doesn't,” he said vaguely. He looked back at Shinra. “By the way, how's it going with your dear friend, Shizu-chan? You haven't mentioned him since that matsuri a few weeks back.”

“Well there's nothing to tell,” Shinra said as he put away his equipment. “He still won't give me any DNA samples to take back to my lab, and he got kind of angry after I tried to take some blood from him while he was sleeping. So now even if I do go to see him, Tom won't let me.”

Izaya snorted. He forgot just how weird Shinra could be sometimes. “Where does he work, anyway?” he said, rolling down his sleeve.

“Shizuo? He works at a debt collection agency in West Ikebukuro. It's pretty small but easy to find if you know what you're – ” Shinra stopped mid-sentence as he sat back down at his desk. He looked at Izaya with a small, mocking smile. “Before all that, though, why the interest? Also, what happened between you two at the matsuri? I never got the chance to ask.”

Izaya leaned on the desk, forgetting for a second that he had a three-inch cut on his forearm. He didn't flinch. “I should be asking you that,” he said. “How come you ditched your date with Celty to come running after us?”

“It's not like I wanted to!” Shinra said, predictably. “I did all I could to convince Celty that you guys were fine, but you know how she is, she kept on trying to look for you guys no matter what I said, and then we find you guys actually fighting – or whatever you guys were doing. You know how bad that made me look? She was all like, 'I told you so', and I couldn't say anything back. Now how am I supposed to have another not-date date if she spends all her time worrying about what everyone else is doing?”

“Well, you're the one who invited that idiot along,” Izaya said. “How exactly did you find him, again?”

“He works for my senior from high school, the one who won't let me see Shizuo anymore. But really, what good is a senior-junior relationship if he can't help me out with getting just a little bit of blood...”

Izaya got up, reaching for his jacket. “You should probably reflect more on your desire to collect Shizu-chan's blood instead of ruminating on senior-junior relationships,” he said, laughing. “Anyway, thanks for fixing me up! I'll see you later.”

“Okay,” Shinra said, turning off his desk lamp. Then quickly, he turned it back on. “Wait,” he said, “But you didn't answer my – !”

Izaya walked out of the room. “Good night!” he said.

He closed the door on Shinra's scowl.

 

Shizuo stared at the selection of bentos before him. Each and every one looked delicious, especially when laid out right in front him, all ready-made. He wanted to eat all of them, but that wasn't practical, of course.

He scratched his blond head.

Which one should he get?

After another painful grumble from his stomach, Shizuo gave up. He grabbed the one that he'd been eyeing from the start, the one with donkatsu, and headed for the front register.

He left the store thinking that maybe he should have gotten the one with more rice.

“Oh, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo whipped around. It wasn't the name, of course. It was the voice. The voice of a man ten feet away, who was wearing different clothes from the last time Shizuo had seen him – a shabby-looking, fur-trimmed jacket with a black shirt and pants – but the same exact smirk.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said.

Orihara put his hands in his pockets. “And what are you doing?” he said, walking closer. “Out for a smoke?”

“No, I was – wait, how do you know I smoke?”

“It doesn't take a genius to figure it out, Shizu-chan,” he said. Swiftly, Orihara took a step into Shizuo's personal space and leaned in close, inhaling audibly. “You reek of them, after all.”

Shizuo flinched, stumbling back.

“Oh?” Orihara said. He looked up at Shizuo, his brown eyes red in the light of the convenience store. “Did I scare you?”

“Like hell you did!”

Orihara's small smile thinned, broadening. He was close enough that Shizuo could see that his hair was wet, as if he'd just taken a shower. He definitely smelled like he had, his scent fresh like laundry but with the edge of something that reminded Shizuo of hospitals. Then he sighed. “Well,” he said. “I'd love to play, but I do have some business to take care of. I'll see you later, Shizu-chan. Maybe I'll stop by your agency sometime, it's called Karma Financial, right?”

“How the fuck – ?”

He passed Shizuo, waving. “Shinra told me, of course.”

Before the pest could get away, Shizuo shot out a hand and grabbed his arm. This time, Orihara flinched. Shizuo smiled.

“Scared, Izaya-kun?”

Turning around, Orihara stepped close, looking up at Shizuo with a sharp smile. “As if a mongrel like you could scare me.”

The flea's stare was physical. Shizuo felt it burn straight through his skin and into his blood, making his veins roar against the intrusion. He tightened his grip, pulling the enemy a little closer. “What the fuck kind of business do you have in the middle of the night?” he said.

“That doesn't really concern you, now does it?”

“I don't like you,” Shizuo said. “And you're shady. Don't drag that stupid doctor into whatever the fuck you've got going on.”

“So you're concerned for Shinra now.” Orihara laughed a little. “How kind of you, considering you've only known him for four months.”

Shizuo leaned closer. “I hate you,” he growled.

“Likewise.” Quickly, Orihara reached forward and grabbed Shizuo's plastic bag. “Now, I wonder what's in here?”

“Hey!” Shizuo tugged on Orihara's arm, reaching for his dinner in righteous fury. Orihara gasped. Shizuo glanced at the flea's face, forgetting about his bento for a heartbeat, and instead of the usual smile, he saw the briefest flicker of pain. Shizuo let go.

Orihara stumbled back.

“Hey,” Shizuo said. “You okay?”

Orihara looked at him sharply. “What?” he said. He laughed. “Anyway, this has been fun. Here.” He tossed the bag back to him, and Shizuo caught it without thinking. “Enjoy your dinner. I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Shizuo grabbed Orihara's arm again, but he twisted out of it, smacking Shizuo away.

“ _Don't touch me._ ”

Shizuo hesitated, but only a little. He caught Orihara's hand before he could react and held it up to his eyes. There was a dark stain on the fur of his coat. “You're bleeding,” he said.

“Well great,” Orihara said. He wrenched his hand back, and this time, Shizuo let go. “Looks like you opened up my stitches. Why don't you learn to control your strength, beast?”

“You could have told me I was hurting you!” Shizuo said. He ran a hand through his hair. “Still...sorry. Want me to look at it?”

Orihara glared at him. “What?”

“I could probably help if it's just stitches. I have experience.”

“What are you, an underground doctor?” he said, frowning.

“Nah, I just get hurt a lot. Come on, I'll look at for you. My apartment's not that far away.”

Orihara stared for a second, as if he was actually considering the offer, but then he smiled, small and bitter. “Well,” he said. “As much as I would love to spend the night at your place, like I said, I have an appointment. I can't miss it.”

Shizuo found himself glaring. “It won't take that long,” he said.

“I can't guarantee that you're not luring me into a trap either.”

“What?! Why would I – ?”

“So, nighty night, Shizu-chan!” He started backing away, knife suddenly in the air, pointed at him. “Don't let the bed bugs bite.”

When it was clear Shizuo wasn't going to follow, Orihara turned around, pocketing his knife. He walked away.

Shizuo stared after him, his bag of bento shaking in his hand.

God, he fucking hated that guy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry the chapter is so short, I'll probably post another one soon that actually has more content. I just liked the idea of them meeting randomly like this :)


	3. Working Things Out

Izaya's jacket was on the floor. It was his favorite jacket, big and comfy, but it was a clean house. He had refused, politely, to take off his rings, just as he had politely refused a cup of tea and any other chance to chat. They had gone directly to Shiki's basement, just as they had for the past six months or so.

“You're a natural,” Shiki said, chuckling dryly.

Izaya smiled, panting as he leaned against the wall. “Thank you,” he said.

“Still, you'll get yourself killed if you don't learn how to pick your fights.” Shiki joined Izaya at the wall, offering him a waterbottle that Izaya took with a grimace. Shiki gestured to Izaya's arm. “You're bleeding again, Orihara-san.”

Izaya didn't bother to look down at the stain on his bandaged arm. “I'm not a child, Shiki-san,” Izaya said. He chugged down some water, wiped his mouth. “I engaged someone in a controlled environment to get some real experience.”

“And what have we been doing these past six months?”

Izaya looked at Shiki, his sweat-soaked hair, his young face pulled together into harsh lines that never went away, even as he stood there next to him, smiling. Izaya knew he was one of the privileged. Not many people saw Shiki like this, in a regular T-shirt and sweats, smiling at the pleasure of your company.

It started, as Shiki said, half a year ago. Shiki stumbled across Izaya turning cold in a pool of warm blood. An acquaintance of Izaya's had shot him with an unsteady, shaking hand, for betraying him, Izaya said, which was true. Shiki brought Izaya home, where Shinra could treat him. Later, when he could limp again, Izaya went up to Shiki and asked him how to handle a blade.

They trusted each other, to a point. In their side of the world, trust was everything and, at the same time, nothing. Izaya could say he trusted this man that had saved his life once, and Shiki could say that he trusted Izaya to honor him as his savior, but the first man to depend on the other would fall, crumble, lose.

“I appreciate what you've done for me, Shiki-san,” Izaya said, smiling back. “Truly. But it would have all been for naught if I couldn't apply what you've taught me in the real world.”

“It'll all be for naught when you get yourself killed.”

“Have some faith, Shiki-san,” Izaya said. He pushed himself off the wall. “Now, I want to practice hitting moving targets again! That's always fun.”

Shiki put his hands in his pockets, not moving from the wall. “Orihara-san,” he said. “You should go home and get that treated. You won't be able to work if you got an infection.”

Izaya glanced back at him. “I thought we said we wouldn't mention work down here, Shiki-san.”

“Well, in this case, I'm making an exception.”

“How long does this exception last? Because I do have something about our runaway that I want to check up on...”

Shiki scowled. “It just ended.”

Izaya laughed. “I see,” he said. Smiling, he tossed the waterbottle back to Shiki and added, “Don't worry, Shiki-san. I'm a professional. Even if I got sick, I'd still find a way.”

“You always seem to, don't you?” Still, he didn't move. “Why don't we leave the knives for today,” he said. “I'll start teaching you how to use guns. You don't need to practice your aim with knives anymore, anyway.”

Izaya walked over to the table full of Shiki's knives. “Practice makes perfect,” he sang softly.

“And if you're already perfect?”

“Then take the chance to transcend beyond.” Izaya took a pocket knife with a cheap, wooden handle. He turned around. “Ready?” he said.

Sighing, Shiki finally pushed off the wall and headed towards Izaya with a small frown, the space between his eyes a mass of creases.

“Are you giving me a choice?”

Izaya smiled as he flicked the blade out of the handle.

“No.”

 

It was a nice day. It was heading towards the end of February, and the weather might have been a little too cold for everyone else, but it felt just right to Shizuo. He enjoyed walking around in a T-shirt and jeans, feeling the cool air on his skin as he smoked the cigarette between his teeth.

They were finally getting over all the Christmas debts at work, too. No more having to listen to shit like, it was for the children, it was for my wife, it was for my husband, it was for my long-lost grandmother dying from the flu, and don't you have a soul it was for Christmas for god's sake, can't you give me a break?

Shizuo exhaled bitter, white smoke. He imagined the whisper of it rushing out his lips to be the feel of all those hundreds of complaints disappearing out into the open air. He relaxed, smiling.

Then he walked through the doors of Karma Financial*.

“...thank you again, Tom-san.”

Tom shook the hand of a skinny man in glasses, his matte-black coat long and heavy-looking, his smile unforgettable.

“No problem,” Tom said, neutrally. “I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help.”

“No, I expected as much anyway,” Orihara replied. “Just please let me know if you get any more information on my uncle.”

Tom nodded. “Of – ”

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?!”

They both turned around to face Shizuo. “Shizuo,” Orihara said, in a tone of polite surprise. He smiled nicely, that coupled with the wire-rimmed glasses making him look like a completely different person. “Hello to you too.”

Shizuo balled his hands into fists, his abandoned cigarette burning out on the floor, and his blood rushed to his head so fast it almost left him dizzy. “DON'T CALL ME THAT!”

“Woah,” Tom said, approaching Shizuo with his hands raised. “I don't know what's going on, but let's calm down a bit first...”

“Tom-san,” Shizuo started, turning to him, “whatever he said – ”

“Actually,” Orihara cut in, swiftly stepping forward. “This is great timing. There was something I wanted to talk to you about, Shizuo.”

“Orihara!” Shizuo growled.

The man had the gall to laugh. “How many times have I told you to call me Izaya?” he said.

“What – ?!”

“Come on, let's talk outside, so that we don't bother Tom-san.”

“Like hell I'm gonna – !”

“It's about Shinra.”

“What?” Tom said as Shizuo deflated. “Is Shinra okay?”

“Oh, Tom-san, you know Shinra too?” Orihara said innocently, looking over at Tom.

“Yeah, he was my junior in high school. Did something happen?”

“I see. Well, there's no need to worry. What I want to talk about isn't anything too serious. It's just...I'd rather it be just Shizuo-kun and me. Is that alright with you, Tom-san?”

Tom looked at Shizuo and then at Orihara. He shrugged. “It's fine with me if it's fine with Shizuo,” he said.

Orihara glanced at Shizuo. “Shizuo?”

Shizuo looked at Orihara. The flea's eyes looked weirdly honest. Maybe it was because his glasses were magnifying them a little, but he even had his head cocked to the side, his crooked smile simply puzzled, instead of mocking. All of this combined made him seem so...normal.

Shizuo didn't trust it for a second.

“So all you want,” he said, making up his mind, “is just to talk about Shinra, right?”

Orihara laughed a little. “Of course.”

Shizuo sighed. “Fine,” he said. He turned around, stalking out the doors of the building. “I'll be right back,” he called out to Tom.

“Just don't take too long.”

Outside, Orihara took off his glasses and tucked his coat tighter around himself. “Come on,” he said. “Let's walk around the block for a bit, it's freezing.”

“We can talk right here,” Shizuo said, glaring.

“Do I really have to drag you the entire way through this conversation?” Orihara said. He dropped that weird expression he had on before. Now, he was looking up at Shizuo with a familiar scowl on his face, the hand in his pocket probably holding his knife. “I thought you wanted to hear about Shinra.”

For some reason, Shizuo found himself relaxing a little. “I did,” he said. He scratched his nose, sniffing. “Fine, I'll walk with you, happy?”

Orihara smirked. “A little.”

They started walking down the street, side-by-side in the cool, gray afternoon. They were one of the few out and about, an odd pair ambling between people hurrying from one place to another. If Orihara had been any other person, the walk probably would have been very nice.

As it was, he didn't feel horrible about it. Orihara was quiet for the first few minutes, something Shizuo thought was suspicious, but a relief nonetheless. He actually looked a little silly huddled up in his large coat, flushed from a cold Shizuo could barely feel. Shizuo almost cracked a smile at the sight.

“What?” Orihara said when Shizuo actually let out a small chuckle.

“Nothing,” he said, quickly looking away. “It's just, it's not that cold, you know.”

He heard Orihara scoff. “It's less than ten degrees Celsius, Shizu-chan. Maybe a freak like you can't feel it, but it's cold.”

“Maybe you're just that weak,” Shizuo said. “You are pretty skinny.”

“I could cut down a monster like you any day.”

“Oh yeah?” he said. “How's your arm?”

“You want to find out?”

“Weren't you going to talk to me about Shinra?” Shizuo said, before he could do anything rash. Tom would have been proud.

“How come he's a first name, anyway?” Orihara said. Shizuo felt his eye twitch. “You even call Celty by her first name, and you've known me just as long.”

“Celty's a foreigner, so it's normal for her, and is this really what you wanted to talk about?” Shizuo growled.

“Just try it,” Orihara said, smiling now. “Try calling me by my first name.”

“Don't be gross. I'm not calling you by your first name.”

Orihara laughed, taking his bony hands out of his coat pockets. “Come on, it's not that hard,” he said. “I do it for you.”

“Did I ever say I wanted you to?!”

“It's just three syllables: _I – za – ya_. Come on, say it with me!”

“No!”

“Izaya, _I_ zaya...”

“Shut up!”

“...I _za_ ya, Iza _ya, Izayaaaaaaa_!””

“I swear to god – !”

Orihara linked an arm through Shizuo's and leaned into him, his cold body flush against his. “Just do it, Shizu-chan!”

Caught off-guard, Shizuo stumbled back and knocked into someone, making her fall. Horrified, Shizuo quickly shook Orihara off and helped the woman up.

“I'm so sorry!” he said.

The woman just darted her eyes between Orihara, who was laughing his ass off, and Shizuo. After a mumbled, “No, I'm fine,” she sped off down the street as quickly as she could.

Whipping around, Shizuo grabbed Orihara by the collar.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” he growled.

“Hey,” Orihara said, still chuckling. “Let's date.”

“What?!”

“I'm serious! Well, kind of.” Orihara wrapped his fingers around Shizuo's, patting his hand. “For now, let me go. People are staring.”

Shizuo glanced around to see that Orihara was right, some people had actually stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at them. Reluctantly, Shizuo let go.

“You're lucky there are people here, flea.”

“Now who's the evil one, beast?”

“Orihara – !”

He quickly backed off, hands up. “If we're going to make this work, you should really learn how to control that temper of yours.”

“What are you talking about?” Shizuo growled.

“Well,” Orihara said, putting his hands down. He started walking again, and grumbling, Shizuo followed. “As I'm sure everyone except for you and Celty knows, Shinra is head over heels for Celty. He's too much of a coward to actually ask her out himself, so all we need to do, as his closest friends, is give him the opportunity to confess his feelings. With me so far?”

“Wait,” Shizuo said, frowning.

“Yes?”

“I thought Shinra and Celty were already going out.”

“Eh?” Orihara looked up at Shizuo, face full of surprise. Then he burst out laughing. “Is that what Shinra said?”

“No,” Shizuo snapped. “I just figured from the way he talked about her all the goddamn time, and you know, how they acted at the matsuri that they were. But really, they're not?”

Orihara smiled. “Not yet. But as apparently even _you_ can tell, they're right at the brink. They just need that final push, and that's where you and I come in!”

“How?” Shizuo said, frowning.

“Like I said.” Orihara glanced up at Shizuo, his flushed face sly. “We start dating.”

“I don't date.”

“That's fine,” Orihara said, waving him off. “We just need to make it look like we are. Then when we invite them out, the two idiots won't get all hot and bothered if we suddenly disappear on them. After a couple times of this, they should naturally get together on their own. Perfect, right?”

“No,” Shizuo said. “I won't lie to some poor girl just to get them together.”

“Well then, good thing you won't have to.”

Shizuo looked over at him. “What?”

“Are you really this slow? Or are you just pretending?” Orihara looked back at Shizuo, his brown eyes sparkling in a sudden burst of cold sunlight, his smile challenging. “I'm asking you out,” he said. “Moron.”

Shizuo stared.

“What?!”

 

*I changed the name of Shizuo's workplace from "Collect-A-Debt" to "Karma Financial." I thought it sounded a little more official.

 


	4. Of Beaches and Hotels

Shinra had lied. Izaya knew this the instant he saw Shizu-chan walking though that front door, but he didn't know what to do with this information, at first. Shinra had lied to Izaya about Shizu-chan's work hours, or else the idiot was coming in on his off-day, for some reason. Izaya had prepared for this, somewhat. He'd given Tom his real name, just in case the guy found out Izaya was connected to Shizuo somehow. In a way, Shizu-chan showing up had made the risk worth it, but the moron had acted completely as expected the very second he walked in, making sure to spread his annoyingly accurate suspicions of Izaya to the man with whom he had just spent two hours trying to convince of his legitimacy.

Izaya was looking for a girl. A runaway, whose father owed over a thousand dollars to Karma Financial. Incidentally, the father was missing too, and so Izaya had made the trek over to the company itself just to see what he could dig up. It was a weak lead, but he left no stone unturned, as a rule, and who knows? Maybe he could turn this stone into a goldmine.

But because of Shizuo, Izaya could see his work crumbling before his very eyes.

So, Izaya lied too. He played his part of the concerned friend, roping Shizuo into this stupid scheme instead of letting him get tied up in Izaya's actual work. And who knows? Celty was a pretty girl. Maybe he could get Shizuo to like her and get some revenge on Shinra too.

Or well, so he thought.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Izaya wrapped his arms around himself as a breeze ripped through his T-shirt and shorts. “How the hell do you _forget_ the name of the hotel you're staying at?”

“Shut up,” Shizuo said, glaring. “It's around here somewhere.”

“Oh great. Is it that hotel we passed by half an hour ago?”

“I said shut up!”

Izaya seethed, shivering. This was just fucking wonderful. It had been almost a month since the start of their “scheme”, but it had been all downhill from the start. Shizuo seemed to have zero interest in Celty. Well, that wasn't exactly true. They got along well, whenever the four of them were together, but Shizuo seemed to be eerily efficient at finding ways to separate the two of them from Celty and Shinra, whether it was bathroom breaks, getting lost in the crowd, or eating at two different tables because the restaurant was too full. Shizuo could think of them all in spite of his dumb as bricks brain, although he was never very subtle.

And now, they were supposedly on a beach trip. Izaya had been forced to come later due to a meeting he wanted to eavesdrop on between some residents in the local university hospital and some questionable-looking business partners. Or well, because of work, which was all they ever needed to know.

Shinra had arranged it all. Izaya had offered to help, of course, but Shinra wasn't naive enough to think that Izaya's sudden willingness to take interest in his love life was genuine. He probably didn't even think Izaya and Shizuo were actually going out, which was smart on his part, but still annoying. Shinra went so far as to even refuse to tell Izaya where they were staying. Izaya had met them on the beach, his luggage in tow, and Shinra had said he'd hand over the keys at the end of the day. When Izaya said that no, he was going to drop off his stuff now, Shizuo suddenly draped himself over Izaya's shoulders.

“What, can't go five minutes without wifi, Izaya-kun?”

Izaya flinched, half-ready to stab the shirtless man on his back. The brute would sometimes surprise him like this, as if he thought he was being cute. Or as if he knew just how annoying Izaya thought it was. And he had taken to calling Izaya by his first name, since they were “dating,” but now that Izaya couldn't use it to annoy Shizuo, the brute had been using it to annoy Izaya.

“I just don't want to get sand in my things, Shizu-chan,” he said. “Anyway, get off! You're getting my clothes wet.”

Shizuo leaned down, right next to Izaya's ear. “You're right,” he said, chuckling softly. “You're wet all over 'cause of me.”

Izaya clenched his hands, growing warm despite himself. This idiot. He didn't look it, but Shizu-chan knew how to talk and act like a boyfriend, and Shinra and Celty, who were standing close enough to hear, ate it all up.

Celty blushed. Shinra told them to “get a room” and sent them off to get some shaved ice. Laughing – a little too forcibly – Izaya pushed Shizuo away and slid off his jacket so it dried while he was gone. He was about to take his main phone out with him, at least, when Shizuo grabbed his wrist, saying, “Come on, hurry up.”

The stupid shaved ice took forever to find since they got lost along the way – Izaya getting distracted as he argued with Shizu-chan – and when they finally got back, Shinra, Celty, and Izaya's luggage were all gone.

Apparently, Shizuo had forgotten where he'd been staying for the past two days and his phone was dead. Izaya had left everything in his jacket.

“I seriously don't believe you,” Izaya muttered. “You've been going in and out of this place for two days, how can you not remember where it is?”

Shizuo sighed, his hands in his shorts, but clearly balled into fists. “I've never been to Okinawa before,” he said.

“What does that have to do with anything? You should have been here long enough to at least remember the name of your hotel.”

“Shinra's the one who took care of everything. I just followed him and Celty, sorry if I wasn't paying attention,” he said. He scratched the back of his head, and Izaya saw his eye twitch. “But I don't need to explain myself to you, flea.”

“I guess you don't. I already knew you were a fucking moron.”

“What?!” Shizuo growled. “You know, this is all your fault anyway!”

Izaya stopped walking. “My fault?” he said. “How the hell is this _my_ fault?”

“Because this was your plan!”

“Oh, of course. Remember last week, when I said I wanted to get lost in Okinawa with no one but you for company?”

Shizuo towered over Izaya. He looked up coolly. “You know what I mean,” Shizuo said. “This was all your idea to start with. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you!”

Izaya scoffed. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“ _Izaya –_!”

“Anyway,” Izaya said. He turned around and started walking again, ignoring the hands that seemed to be itching for his throat. “Since you are clearly no closer to remembering the hotel as you were two hours ago, let's start doing this my way.”

“What?” Shizuo said. “Don't tell me you actually know where – ?!”

“Of course not,” Izaya said, rolling his eyes. “Not yet, anyway. First, let's go back to where we were at the beach. I can probably predict which hotel Shinra chose from there...”

Shizuo glanced at Izaya, everything on his face screaming distrust. “It's getting dark,” he said. “Let's just book a room somewhere and try again in the morning.”

“Nice try, but I'm not sleeping in the same room as you.”

“Would you rather freeze your ass off looking for the hotel all night?” Shizuo said, through what sounded like clenched teeth. “Don't be a brat.”

“So I've been demoted from evil mastermind to brat. Who's the one that threw a tantrum just now because he couldn't get his way?”

“That's still you.”

“It's like talking to a wall,” Izaya muttered. He sighed, holding back another shiver from the cold.

“Come on, you're already cold,” Shizuo said. Izaya glared. “I don't have enough money for two rooms, alright? We're sharing a room at the hotel anyway.”

“You're joking,” he said.

Shizuo shook his head, grimacing. “I wish I was.”

Izaya groaned. “God, I'm going to _kill_ Shinra.”

To his surprise, Shizuo laughed. That scowling face softened somehow, transforming as he chuckled into the pink and purple sky. “Don't blow our cover, dumbass,” he said.

Izaya blinked. “Well,” he said, looking away. “Rest assured, I'd have to find him first, which doesn't seem like is going to happen anytime soon.”

“Really? I thought you had it all figured out.”

Izaya's fingers twitched, longing for the knife in his back pocket. “I'll figure it out in the morning,” he snapped. “I'm too tired to think right now.”

“So, we're checking into a hotel?”

“Yeah,” Izaya said. He glanced at Shizuo, who was looking down at him, smirking. “Guess you'll get to sleep with me after all, Shizu-chan.”

 

Shizuo lathered cheap soap in his hair, sighing into the steaming, hot water. It took forever to find a hotel that Shizuo could actually afford, and then even longer to find one that Izaya approved of. They finally chose this one because someone had come out to complain about their bickering – Shizuo had refused to go in because of all places, Izaya had to choose a freaking _love_ hotel – and even though he had felt like punching the stranger out instead of calming down, Izaya had just went in, forcing Shizuo to follow after him.

Now, Shizuo was on-edge. He blinked soap out of his eyes thinking, one month was a long time to fake-date someone. They had been forced to spend a lot of time alone together for the past few weeks, and lately Shizuo had been thinking, the guy wasn't horrible.

Well, he was annoying. He also probably worked for the yakuza. And, he knew just how to get under not only Shizuo's, but anyone's skin. He even had this look, this specific smile he wore all the time, that riled Shizuo up enough to make him want to punch the man in the face.

Shizuo hummed as he put his face under the showerhead, letting the water block out everything else.

But he was kind of funny sometimes. One day, Izaya's little sisters had actually ambushed him at his apartment, and Shizuo couldn't stop laughing as they annoyed him to death, thinking for the first time that huh, so even the flea could be cute sometimes.

Like earlier, when Shizuo surprised him at the beach. He was awfully jumpy, which Shizuo liked taking advantage of, but what he liked more was seeing the light blush around Izaya's ears. Only Shizuo could see it, whenever he said something a little too explicit, a little too suddenly.

Or that time when Izaya had gone through five glasses of wine during dinner, touching little to none of his actual food. They had to be escorted out after Izaya talked to nearly everyone in the restaurant. Shizuo actually had to carry Izaya home on his back that night, listening to Celty and Shinra tease him about his “boyfriend” while Izaya, flushed but light, hummed tunelessly in his ear.

Or when he let Shizuo try on his rings that he always wore. They spent the rest of that day trying to figure out how to take them off, and Izaya fell down with a cramp in his stomach because he had laughed so hard, for so long. Near the end, actually, Shizuo had been trying to bite them off again when Izaya said, “Want me to try?”

They had been in Izaya's living room. Celty and Shinra were gone because they had wanted to search for ring-removing supplies. Shizuo looked over at Izaya. He was sitting next to him on his laptop, supposedly researching, and his smile was – no other word to describe it – pure evil.

“What, did you find something?” he said.

“No,” Izaya said. “I just thought of something. Give me your finger.”

Warily, Shizuo surrendered his pinky finger. After examining it for a few seconds, teasing Shizuo in other words, Izaya licked it.

Shizuo snapped his hand back. “What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled.

“We haven't tried this yet, right?” Izaya said, still smiling. “Come on, give it back. My tongue can work wonders, you know.”

“No!” Shizuo said, cradling his hand to his chest. “You'll infect me with your weird Izaya-germs.”

Izaya laughed. _“That's_ what you're worried about? 'Izaya-germs'?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I don't want to catch your crazy.”

“Well, what if all my 'Izaya-germs' are collected in my rings?” Izaya said, putting his laptop on the table.

“I'll just chop my hands off.”

“Aw, you'd go that far just because of me?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said, scoffing.

Izaya held his hand out. “Come on, just give it to me.”

“No way am I letting you suck on my fingers!”

“Who said anything about sucking?” he said. He rose up on his knees.

“No – well – it's the same – !”

Suddenly, Izaya jumped on top of Shizuo, trying to get at his fingers as if he were trying to bite them off, and yelling, Shizuo accepted the challenge. By the time Shinra and Celty came back, the living room table was split into five pieces, the lamp had smashed into the TV across the room, the couch had three of Izaya's knives sticking out of it, and Izaya himself was straddling Shizuo, biting his arm hard enough to bleed.

So actually, 99% of the time, Shizuo hated being around him.

Right now, for instance. They were two guys in a love hotel, and Izaya could joke all he wanted about their fake relationship, but this was taking it a little too far.

Shizuo scrubbed soap angrily into his arm.

Sure, the place was cheap, and sure, it looked cleaner than the other hotels they were considering, but sometimes, Shizuo just had no idea what was going on through that flea's head.

Because, apparently, Izaya was actually gay. Shinra told him after they “came out.” He said how their first meeting had actually been some kind of double date set-up, which neither he nor Izaya thought would work out, but look how well it ended up!

Shizuo just sat there, shocked.

So, did that mean that the flea actually... _liked_ him?

After a couple more “double dates,” this seemed unlikely. But still, Shizuo wondered. When he joked, was he really joking? Did he really bring Shizuo to this love hotel because it looked nice? What if he was expecting something? What if he confessed his feelings or tried to kiss him?

Suddenly, Shizuo felt a ghost of soft lips on his, heard the imagined whisper of his name in his ears.

_“Shizuo, please...”_

Shizuo laughed a little at himself. _Yeah right..._

_“...My tongue can work wonders, you know...”_

Shizuo paused. His fingers absently rubbed the mark on his forearm. Izaya's mouth had been warm when he bit him, his eyes as red as Shizuo's blood. He could still feel the shadow of those lips on his skin. Shizuo put a finger to his own lips, biting down on it.

_His face so close, his breaths hotter than the steam in the shower, Izaya's tongue ran against Shizuo's, moaning..._

Shizuo shook his head. No. Izaya? He shouldn't. The flea was the flea, how could he...

_The flea down on his knees, right there in the shower, Shizuo's back on the tiled wall as that skilled mouth took all of him in..._

Orihara-san. Izaya...

_“Give it to me...”_

Shizuo leaned against the wall. Tentatively, he brushed his tip. He imagined his finger to be Izaya's tongue, and his breath hitched. He wrapped his whole hand around himself.

_His hands ran through Izaya's hair, holding the flea in place as he thrust himself into his mouth. Izaya groaned, breaths just as heavy as Shizuo's. His tongue moved as Shizuo moved, he hummed like he did when he was drunk. He sank his nails into Shizuo's thighs, and those red-brown eyes looked up at him, pleading for more..._

Shizuo quickly switched the temperature after, so that the water fell, freezing-cold, on his skin. “Fuck,” he said. He shivered, gasping, from the sudden cold and release. _“Fuck.”_

A knock came from the door.

“Shizu-chan?” Izaya said. “What the hell's taking so long? Did you drown yourself in there or something?”

Shizuo flinched. “I – I'm almost done!” he said. He threw the white glob in his hand down the drain, and then vigorously, he scrubbed his hands with the soap.

“You better be! Or I'm coming in, whether you're done or not.”

 _Don't!_ Shizuo almost shouted out. Instead, Shizuo took a deep breath and turned off the running water. Izaya was standing right by the door when Shizuo came out. Crying out in surprise, Shizuo slammed into the door frame.

Izaya stared, for so long that Shizuo thought his heart would race itself into a cardiac arrest. Then, his face broke out into a smirk. “Oh, I'm sorry,” he said. “Did I scare you?”

“Shut up and take a shower,” Shizuo said, hoping to god that his blush looked like it was from the hot water.

Izaya laughed, giving up on teasing him in favor of finally getting into the bathroom. On the way, he passed so close to Shizuo that their shoulders touched.

Shizuo gasped. Izaya paused, this time looking over at Shizuo with narrowed eyes. Shizuo wanted to destroy something so that the whole building collapsed on them, right here, right now. God, did this stupid flea catch every single goddamn thing?

“What's with you?” Izaya said sharply. “Did you do something to the bathroom?”

Shizuo coughed. He ran a hand through his damp hair and started to shuffle out of what was rapidly beginning to feel like a claustrophobic space. “What could I do to a bathroom?” he said. “Quit asking stupid questions.”

“How cute,” Izaya said, as Shizuo walked away. “And here I thought you were actually starting to like me.”

Shizuo scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

He reached the bed – they could only afford a single, which he was really regretting right now – and plopped down.

After a few unbearable seconds, Shizuo finally heard the bathroom door shut. He groaned into a pillow.

Fuck.

 


	5. Loving Humans

Shizuo was hiding something. Izaya stared at the water, playing absently with his ring.

They were on the beach, with Celty and Shinra after they finally found each other around noon. They had each wandered around on the sand all morning, looking for the other. After a quick trip to the hotel – they had actually passed it multiple times, that idiot – they had returned to the sand and sun and waves, Shinra and Izaya relaxing in the shade as Celty attempted to teach Shizuo how to surf.

Izaya laughed a little as Shizuo, after managing to make it onto his feet, slipped and fell backwards in the water. Even from far away, it looked ridiculous.

That aside, it was abnormal. Why had Shizuo taken the first opportunity, when they got here, to hang out with Celty? He never did that. In all of their double dates, not once had the brute willingly spent time apart from Izaya.

He'd been acting strange that morning too. As they checked out of the hotel and walked around the beach, Shizuo said nothing more than necessary to Izaya and avoided eye contact. When they finally ran into the idiot couple, the two went on about how they'd thought it was getting late and so decided to pack up and how they texted Shizuo and even looked for them at the beach later, but Shizuo didn't bat an eye. He didn't get angry or threaten to kill anyone, not even Izaya.

Something was going on. Izaya just didn't know what, and out of principle, this annoyed him. What the hell could an idiot like Shizu-chan hide from Izaya?

“So how was it?” Shinra said, suddenly.

Izaya glanced at him. “How was what?”

“Last night.” Shinra sat up in his beach chair, his pale skin practically glowing in the dark. “I didn't see anything in the news, so you guys must have managed to stay civil for an entire night. Did anything happen?”

Yeah, Izaya answered, privately. That weird thing with the bathroom, but he didn't know how that connected to everything, yet.

“Trying to pick up tips?” he said out loud. “Although you'd probably want to talk to Shizu-chan instead of me...”

“Oh come on, give me a little credit, Izaya. I know you guys aren't actually dating. I mean, you guys hate each other.”

Izaya grinned. “Is it that obvious?”

“Kind of,” Shinra said, laughing. “Even Celty is starting to notice, but she thinks you guys are just going through a rough patch or something.”

“And?” Izaya said, reaching for a waterbottle. “You and Celty seem awfully close lately. Have our efforts finally born any fruit?”

Shinra's face flushed, from excitement of course because the man wouldn't know embarrassment even if he was stripped naked and planted in the middle of Tokyo. “Well, I think we had a moment last night,” he said. “We were talking about you guys, you know, if you guys were okay, what you were doing, stuff like that, and Celty said, 'It's probably better this way.' I said, 'Why?' Then she said, 'So that they have some alone time to talk through their problems, and for... _you know_.' And then we looked at each other, and she blushed, Izaya, she blushed!”

“Lovely,” Izaya said, rolling his eyes. “I'd always wanted to know that you guys talk about my sex life behind my back.”

“But I think she was thinking about _us_ doing it – ”

“Why don't you try mentioning that to her?” Izaya said. “I'm sure at least one of you would get a nice surprise.”

“Izaya, I'm serious!” Shinra scooted closer, looking too happy for his own good. “What if this beach trip becomes _the_ beach trip?”

“The one where you finally get a restraining order?”

“No!” Shinra said. “The one where we finally acknowledge our mutual feelings for each other!”

“Look,” Izaya said. He leaned back in his chair. “Whatever you do, just don't get us kicked out of the hotel. I refuse to leave after everything I went through to find it.”

Shinra smiled. “You just don't understand romance, Izaya,” he said. “But you'll see. Anyway, what _did_ you go through last night?”

Izaya scowled. “Eleven hours of Shizu-chan's idiocy. Did something happen in the past two days? I swear he's been even more moronic than usual.”

“Well, he was definitely happier than I've ever seen him.” Shinra looked over to where they were, flailing around in the waves. “But that's probably because you weren't around.”

Izaya smirked. “Funny,” he said. “Maybe he was simply overjoyed to finally spend so much time with Celty.”

Shinra glanced at him. “Jealous?”

“Aren't you?”

“Celty thinks you guys are dating,” Shinra said, coolly. “Anyway, if Shizuo-kun were to like anyone, it'd be you.”

Izaya scoffed. “Last time I checked, I haven't miraculously grown a vagina.”

“Do you think Shizuo cares about stuff like that?”

“Every heterosexual male cares about that. You should know best.”

“I love Celty for who she is, just so you know!” Shinra fired back. “She's so sweet and innocent, but she has an unexpectedly dangerous side. She gets angry at the drop of a hat sometimes too, but she's the kindest and most understanding person on the entire planet...”

“And you can say all you want about her personality,” Izaya said. “But the fact is you'd like to fuck her someday. Am I wrong?”

“Well, not really, but that's because – !”

“ – because you like her, is what you were going to say?”

Shinra scowled. Izaya laughed. “You know, people tend to marry others who are close to them in physical attractiveness,” he said. “The pretty end up with the pretty and the ugly end up with the ugly, because no matter what people say, humans are ruled more by what exists on the surface than they would like to think.”

Izaya looked back to where the two were starting to drag the board back to the surf, each of them laughing, talking, smiling.

“Attraction,” he said, “is first and foremost physical. When you say you 'like someone,' that means you think he or she looks, at the very least, agreeable. Now, I'm not saying it's impossible for a straight man to think another man looks attractive. Every human is capable of appreciating pretty things. But to _be_ attracted to the way another man moves, to his nipples, his dick, his ass, and his voice...”

Izaya laughed a little as Shizuo tripped on the string that connected the surfboard to his ankle.

“...to want to touch him in spite of the looks and whispers and the sheer difficulties that come with making love to another man...”

Celty helped Shizuo get up, laughing herself.

“...if you don't already swing that way, that's not something a good personality can overcome. Well,” Izaya chuckled, “not that I have a good personality to start with.”

Shizuo collapsed into the chair next to him. “Who said you had a good personality?” he said. He grabbed Izaya's waterbottle, chugging down whatever was left in it.

Izaya looked at Shizuo, carefully. “Shinra,” Izaya answered. “He was saying that my personality couldn't be that bad, if you're willing to date me.”

Shizuo wiped his mouth. “No,” he said. He handed the bottle back, looking at Shinra. “He's the worst. I'm actually only after him for his body.”

“Is that so?” Shinra said.

Celty took her phone from Shinra. [Shizuo!] she said. [Don't say that about your boyfriend!]

“Sorry,” Shizuo said, chuckling.

So this was what the beast looked like happy. It didn't suit him. Taking Shizuo's hand, Izaya intertwined their fingers as he brought it up to his lips, kissing the beast's wet knuckles. “Well, you're not too bad either, Shizu-chan,” he said.

Shizuo blushed, hard. His entire face, sunburned already, burned an even brighter red, even his fingers growing warm, and Izaya just stared, mind blank.

...what?

Shizuo ripped his hand out of Izaya's. “Yeah,” he muttered. He jumped out of his chair. “I'm gonna get some shaved ice,” he said to Celty and Shinra, who looked just as wide-eyed as Izaya felt. “You guys didn't get to try any last time, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shinra said, recovering first. “Thanks!”

Izaya looked over at Shinra and then to Shizuo, as if they were speaking an alien language. Even though Izaya knew five languages. He took a small breath. Smiling up at Shizuo, he extended his hands towards him. “Help me up, Shizu-chan,” he said.

“No,” Shizuo said. “I'll, um, go by myself this time.” He spoke to a space somewhere on the far right of Izaya. “You can stay here.”

Izaya watched as the beast reached compulsively into his pocket for a nonexistent cigarette pack, a vein in his head throbbing.

“No, I want to go for a walk,” he said. He got up from his chair and grabbed Shizuo's hand again before he could dodge it. “Lead the way, Shizu-chan!”

Shizuo glared at him like he wanted to boil him alive.

Well, Izaya thought, as they started off anyway, Shizuo's grip on his hand painful and possibly bruising. This was interesting.

 

“...called 'Blue Zones'*. And even though they range from all over the world, from Okinawa to California, they share some lifestyle choices that help their residents maintain long and healthy lives. These are pretty predictable, of course: physical exercise, a good diet, and social relationships. Reduced smoking is up there as well. Isn't that interesting, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo grunted. They were walking. They were _still_ walking. Shizuo had been crushing the flea's hand for the past ten minutes now, but Izaya has just kept on walking and talking, not reacting one bit.

They weaved in between the beachgoers, ignoring everyone's stares.

“Now, less smoking is the only inhibited action that made the list. Not less alcoholism or caffeine-intake or anything else, but _smoking_.”

Why had Izaya wanted to come? Shizuo gripped the flea's hand harder, making Izaya glance up at him.

“This seems to suggest that smoking is as significant a human behavior as eating, moving, and speaking to people. Addiction, in other words, is a key aspect to what it means to live as a human being...”

Yeah, right, Shizuo thought. He knew why. Those sly eyes missed nothing, and Shizuo had messed up big-time earlier. He could still feel the lingering heat of that goddamn blush on his skin. But why the fuck did Izaya have to kiss him? _Why?_

“...point towards the meaning of life as a species...”

Well, he had only kissed his hand, and that's what frustrated Shizuo even more. So what if he'd jerked off to the flea one time?

“...good and evil, Heaven and Hell, the concept of religion as a whole...”

Oh god, did he really just think that? Izaya. He had come to the thought of _Orihara Izaya_. If there was any kind of sin in this world, that had to be the one that got Shizuo a first-class ticket to hell. Right alongside the flea himself.

“...looking at the body, the very flesh of the individual human...”

That flea had to stop putting his lips on Shizuo. He had to stop touching Shizuo, period.

“...and man himself is man's worst enemy.”

“You're my worst enemy,” Shizuo muttered absently.

Izaya caught this. He looked over at Shizuo, smiling. “How so?” he said.

“Because you are,” he growled.

“If you don't tell me what you don't like about me, Shizu-chan, I can't improve.”

Shizuo wanted a cigarette. So bad. “I don't like anything about you,” he said.

“You'll have to be more specific than that.”

“Why?” he said. “I just don't like you. That's it.”

Izaya squeezed Shizuo's hand back, but it was so weak he could barely feel it. “Can't think of anything?” he said. “I can think of a lot of reason why I don't like Shizu-chan. Let's see, you're stupid, you're rude, you're ridiculously temperamental – ”

“Shut up!” Shizuo finally ripped his hand out of Izaya's, only feeling a twinge of guilt at the flea's small grimace of pain. “This,” he said. “ _This_ is why I don't fucking like you!”

“Again, be specific.” Izaya put his hands in the pockets of his black trunks, the weight making them ride a little lower. “Use your words, Shizu-chan, I know you learned how to once upon a time.”

Shizuo flicked his eyes up, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “You know why I don't like you?” he said. “Because you keep on calling me by that stupid nickname. You keep on acting like you know everything in the fucking universe and that you're better than everyone because of it.”

“It's better than being a half-brained idiot who never pays attention.”

“You're a liar,” Shizuo pressed. “You lie to me, to Shinra, to Celty, and you probably even lie to whoever the hell you work for.”

Izaya smirked. “You say I'm pretentious, but look at you. How naive can you get? You think you can pass judgment on me even though the four corners of your apartment is all you know of this world – ”

“You are a stuck up brat!” Shizuo said. “You think you know everything, but you don't!”

“Then tell me.” Izaya stepped close to Shizuo, his skin slightly tanner than usual, his eyes just as intense. “Tell me what I don't know.”

Shizuo backed away. “What?”

Izaya followed him. “Tell me, Shizuo.”

“Tell you what?!”

“Tell me why you're suddenly attracted to me.”

Shizuo's mind blanked. He backed into the leg of a pier and after hitting it, just stood there. The ocean water was slightly cooler here, in the shade. He felt his face screw up. “Don't,” he growled. “Don't ask me that.”

“Why?”

“Because you're Izaya.” He curled his hands into fists. “I hate you!”

Izaya burst out laughing, wiping his eyes even though Shizuo didn't see any tears. “God, you're so fucking innocent!” he said. He stepped close, straightening up and dropping the smile on his face. “That's why I hate you too.”

Before Shizuo could move, before he could even think, Izaya reached up and kissed him.

Shizuo didn't move. He didn't think. Something like a vague, _oh_ , seemed to cross his mind, but that was it.

As in _oh_ , lips. His lips. Izaya's lips. Izaya.

Shizuo meant to push him back, he really did. But as soon as the thought occurred to him, Izaya scratched lightly at his bare back, trailing a path that burned more painfully, more intensely, than any knife could. Shizuo opened his mouth. Izaya invited himself in, running his tongue beside Shizuo's tongue, the roof of his mouth, his breaths. Shizuo tasted saltwater still, but the longer they kissed, the more Shizuo could taste cheap coffee and the edge of something sweet.

Izaya moaned softly, just barely, into his mouth and Shizuo kissed him faster, more desperately, squeezing him so close he could feel Izaya's nipples rubbing against his. Izaya clung to him too, his skin warm, getting louder or just close enough that Shizuo could feel each moan and whine vibrate through his entire body.

After a few minutes or a few hours, maybe one or two moonless nights, Izaya pulled away. He couldn't get far because at some point, Shizuo had entangled his fingers in that soft, brown hair, his other hand clinging to the small of his bare back.

Izaya's hands were in Shizuo's hair too, and Shizuo felt a dull throb on his scalp as he finally loosened his fingers.

“I think,” Izaya said, licking his lips, panting, “we've got ourselves an audience.”

Startled, Shizuo looked around. A little boy was nearby, staring as a rogue wave demolished his abandoned sand castle. A couple lounging on some chairs were also glancing their way, and a group of three girls were actually just standing close by, watching.

Shizuo blushed. He immediately let go of Izaya, and Izaya stepped back, laughing softly.

“Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?” he said, ignoring everyone as he looked at Shizuo.

“Wha – I – no!” Shizuo covered his face with his hand. “That was – that wasn't – ” He glanced towards where everyone was hastily looking away, except for the little boy. “You just forced yourself on me!” he hissed.

Izaya scoffed. “I don't kiss anybody who doesn't want it,” he said.

“What did you – ?!”

“I said you want me.” Izaya got close again, so that even though he spoke under his breath and the waves crashed nearby and people were chattering on the beach, Shizuo could hear him. “I know that look, Shizuo,” he said. “Shinra told you I was gay, right? And that made you curious. Aware. At first, you probably wondered if I liked you. If I wanted to kiss you like I did just now, if I said your name in the middle of the night. You grew conscious of me, just like that, and now you can't get naked without rubbing off to the thought of me. You want to know right? What it feels like to fuck a man. To fuck me.”

Lightly, so lightly, Izaya trailed a finger just above the hem of Shizuo's bathing suit, his forefinger because he could feel the ring.

“Do you even know how two men do it?” he said, chuckling softly. “Even you can't be that naive, right? How many times have you thought about it? Riding my ass from behind, maybe imagining me with breasts, to soothe your conscience. Or maybe you haven't thought that far ahead. Maybe all you wanted was a kiss.”

That light touch disappeared. Now Izaya's fingers were digging into Shizuo's hip, his nails sharp and unforgiving.

“If so, great for you. If not, then jerk off to me all you want, Shizu-chan. I give you permission. But guess what?”

Shizuo glared, affected, of course, but sooner willing to castrate himself than to ask.

Izaya smirked. “You're of no use to me,” he said. “And I've hated you from the beginning. I was wondering what had gotten you so riled up recently, but now my curiosity is satisfied. If you want to fuck a man, then find someone else. I've lost interest.”

Shizuo said nothing.

Izaya stared at him for a beat longer, and then he stepped backwards. Turning around, he started walking away.

“Don't worry, Shizu-chan!” he called over his shoulder. “With those looks, you'll find someone soon.”

Picking a path between all the staring tourists, Izaya walked away. Shizuo closed his eyes. He took in a shaky breath, leaning so hard against the pier that those were probably splinters digging into his back. He breathed in, for the first time in what felt like much too long a time.

Tasting salt, he just breathed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*I got this from Wikipedia, in case you were wondering

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually kind of surprised myself with this chapter. I didn't think that they would be kissing so soon, but I got swept away by the moment! It's all Izaya's fault, he's the one that made their first kiss so bittersweet XP Please let me know what you think!


	6. Past Lives

“It's supposed to snow tomorrow.”

Izaya lounged on the bed, a fluffy pillow warm against his cooling skin. He didn't look up from his phone. “Yeah, I heard,” he said. “First snowfall of the year.”

The man by the open balcony blew on his cigarette. Unlike Izaya, he wore a robe, fluffy like the pillows, and he was taller than Izaya. He was stockier too, as if he had merged with a brick wall when he was young and just never grew out of it. His thick eyebrows jutted over murky, black eyes, his thick lips frowning.

“It should've come during Christmas,” he said.

“I wouldn't have pegged you for the sentimental type, Daisuke-san,” Izaya said, looking up.

When their eyes met, Daisuke smiled. His shoulders dropped and his brows seemed to recede, letting the soft, orange light of the hotel lamps hit his charcoal eyes and high cheekbones.

“I was just thinking if it snowed on Christmas, you wouldn't have gone on that business trip. Then we could've spent Christmas together.”

Izaya turned off his phone, chuckling as he set it on the bedside table. Wrapping the sheets around himself, he left the warm bed and joined Daisuke by the open balcony doors. Daisuke wrapped an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. Izaya reached out and stole his cigarette. He took a drag, letting the taste, the smoke, calm him.

“Hey,” he said, blowing out. “You should close the door, Daisuke-san. It's cold.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

Lightly taking Izaya's wrist, Daisuke leaned down and kissed him on the lips this time, the taste of him just as bitter as the cigarette. He pulled away but rested a palm on Izaya's face, rubbing a thumb just underneath his eye.

“Remind me, where did you say you worked again?”

“That bank in Shinjuku,” Izaya said, turning to kiss his palm. He smiled. “Why? Having some money issues? I can help with pretty much anything, if it isn't too complicated.”

“No,” Daisuke said. “It's not that.”

“But there is something?”

“Yeah, there's something.” Daisuke took his cigarette back, taking a drag. He blew out, watching the smoke dance away with the night wind. Izaya didn't take his eyes off of Daisuke.

“I was at work today,” Daisuke said. “You know, just hanging out with a buddy of mine. We ended up talking about women, and I mentioned you. I said I'd been thinking about finding a way to learn more about you, about who you really are.”

Izaya tensed. Daisuke pretended not to notice.

“And you know what he said? 'I know a guy. Kind of a brat, but the kid knows his shit.' I said that's great. That'd be great. And Izaya, d'you know what the name of that brat was?”

“No,” Izaya said quietly.

“Orihara Izaya.” Daisuke chuckled. “They say he's an up-and-coming information broker, best in Tokyo. Everyone comes to him for their problems, well, everyone who's heard of him. Ain't that funny? To think that there's another person out there with the given name, 'Izaya'. I thought you were special.”

Izaya smiled, trying to relax. “You think I'm special?” he said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Daisuke said. He laughed. “But I got curious. I asked my buddy, I said, 'What does this information broker look like?' He said Orihara was a skinny guy with brown hair. Kind of girly-looking, but his eyes. He said when he looked at you with those red eyes, it put shivers down your spine.”

Izaya clutched the sheets around him, feeling, all of sudden, naked. “And you think that's me,” he said, as evenly as he could.

“Yeah,” Daisuke said. “I think that's you.”

“My name is Nakamura Izaya,” Izaya said. “I'm a statistics and metadata analyst at San Bank in Shinjuku and have been for three years. Why are you saying this, Daisuke-san? You know me.”

“I know your ass pretty well,” Daisuke said. He put out the cigarette on the door, leaving an ashen mark. “But what else? When's your birthday? Where'd you go to school? What the hell does a statistics and whatever the fuck analyst at San Bank even do?”

Izaya strained a little against Daisuke's hold on him. “If you wanted to know those things,” he said, “then you could have just asked me instead of accusing me of lying to you for an entire year.”

“I thought it was strange from the beginning, you know. Why would a normal want to fuck around with someone from the yakuza?”

“Daisuke-san,” Izaya said, pushing against his arm now. “Let go of me.”

“I thought it was just 'cause you were gay, you know, like you couldn't get any other man to fuck you up the ass, but that didn't make sense either.”

“Daisuke-san, this is getting ridiculous.”

“And then I thought, maybe, _maybe_ , it was 'cause you loved me.”

“Is that what this is all about?” Izaya said. His breaths were a little shallow now, the sheets uncomfortably warm around him. “You want to know if I'm in love with you?”

Daisuke suddenly released him, letting Izaya take a breath, but then he grabbed Izaya's shoulders. He pulled him closer so that their lips smashed together, and Daisuke was pushy, urgent, Izaya struggling to keep up.

Daisuke twisted Izaya around so that his back clattered against the balcony doors, the glass freezing-cold through his paper-thin sheets. Izaya clung to Daisuke for warmth.

Daisuke pulled back.

“Izaya,” he said. His cigarette-breaths were heavy on Izaya's face. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Izaya said. “I do.”

“Say it.”

Izaya reached up and kissed him lightly. “I love you, Jin.”

“Yeah,” Daisuke said. He laughed a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. “I really wanted to hear you say that.”

Those large arms suddenly disappeared. Daisuke dived into a mass of clothes on the chair just by them, and when he straightened up, he was panting, red-faced, holding in his massive hand a small, black pistol. Izaya froze.

“Katsunori was right,” Daisuke said. His square face was squeezing together, collapsing in on itself as the rest of his body tried in vain to be strong. “You really are good at what you do.”

Izaya stared down the barrel of the gun. He looked up at wet, black eyes. He curled his fingers into the soft, cotton sheets, and he leaned back against the glass doors.

“Katsunori was it?” he said. “I'll make sure to remember that.”

He was smiling when Daisuke pulled the trigger.

 

Izaya did remember, after. Katsunori Satoru of Awakusu-kai. Izaya had run a deal with him once, to help find the man his wife was fucking. He'd paid a hefty sum, especially after being informed that the “man” had actually been a woman, just to ensure silence. Not that Izaya ever ratted out his clients. Explicitly.

In this case, the trivial piece of dirt Izaya had on Katsunori served as a nice medium for revenge. That and all the money laundering that son of a bitch was doing on the side.

And as for Daisuke?

Izaya walked along the surf of the beach, running a hand across the scar on his stomach.

Why was he even thinking about that bastard?

It had been almost a year. Izaya was past that now. He knew how to fight. He hadn't been stupid enough to sleep with anyone even remotely related to work; he hadn't slept with anyone, period. He was alive.

It felt good to be alive. It felt good to kiss someone again.

The waves lapped gently at Izaya's bare feet, warm and rhythmic.

Why did he do that again?

Izaya licked his lips. They still tasted like salt.

He had wanted to scare Shizuo. To find out if the idiot was actually attracted to him or not. He hadn't actually intended to go that far.

But if they hadn't been in a public space...

He could have just had sex with him. When Izaya asked the idiot if he wanted to go somewhere private, he had actually been half-serious. They hated each other, but Shizu-chan had been interested. And Izaya had definitely been interested in that body, in those surprisingly skilled lips, in those fingers that were just on the right side of calloused.

Not that it would have been good. Straight men never knew how to do it right, the first time, but Izaya could have taught him, could have ridden him, could have kissed him some more.

Izaya ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

What the fuck was he thinking? The last time he slept with someone, the guy tried to kill him. It wasn't like Shizuo liked him any better than Daisuke had, at the end. Who knew what the brute was thinking anyway? There was an unpredictable quality to him, as if he could jump up and attack somebody at any given moment, which he actually did. Often.

How could Izaya read someone like him?

He could turn out to like Izaya too much. Or too little.

Izaya shook his head at the last thought, laughing softly. He stepped deftly out of the way of a child digging in the sand.

Either way, they had to end this stupid game of theirs, and soon. At this point, it wasn't like Shinra needed the help anyway.

Izaya put his hands in his pockets, curling them into fists. For the first time in seven months, he found himself craving a cigarette.

 

 

 

Shizuo flipped through TV channels. He was sitting on his hotel bed, trying to relax and just pick a fucking program, but he couldn't. Not with the flea on the bed next to him.

It was nighttime. Nothing to do but go to sleep, but Shizuo had showered and brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas, but he just couldn't calm down. Izaya wasn't sleeping either. He was sitting in his half of the room, doing stuff on his computer. He kept on messaging people on his phone too, and every time Shizuo wondered who the hell it could be.

Shizuo had never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

They had kissed. Izaya had _kissed_ him. Then he'd walked away like the motherfucking jackass he was, and fast forward eight hours later, they were here. In the hotel room. Not talking or – god forbid – making eye contact.

Izaya didn't seem bothered by any of it. He had acted normally around Shinra and Celty when Shizuo finally came back – he really couldn't say the same for himself – and when they got to the room, he'd taken a shower, gotten ready for bed, and then cracked open his laptop. That had been three hours ago.

Shizuo wanted to sleep. Fuck, he wanted to smoke. With all this one-sided tension solidifying the air in the room, Shizuo itched for a nice, long drag on his cigarette. He needed some fresh air, as it were.

He clicked onto a food channel.

_“...secret is adding a dash of apples. It gives a nice, rounded flavor to your kimchi, and takes care of the smell! Let's go out to the restaurant now to our hungry customers and see their reaction to – “_

Shizuo sighed. He shut off the TV.

“Going to bed?” Izaya said, looking up from his computer.

Shizuo glanced over and immediately regretted it. The flea must have been biting his lips or something because they looked bright red. So visible, so _right there,_ even from three feet away.

Fury rushed through him for no apparent reason.

“No,” he spit out. Looking away, he climbed out of his bed. “I'm going out.”

“Out?” Izaya said.

“For a smoke. I ran out.”

Shizuo grabbed a pair of jeans from his travel bag, struggling into them while trying to somehow face away from Izaya and not have his ass stick out.

“Hm. Could you buy me some too?”

Shizuo froze as he reached for his wallet. “You smoke?” he said.

“It's been a while.” Izaya looked back at his laptop. “But I suddenly got a craving for them again.”

“Whatever,” Shizuo said. He grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his pocket. “Go get it yourself if you want it so bad.”

Izaya looked up. At him. “But you're going out anyway.”

“Do I look like I fucking care?”

“It's just cigarettes, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, glaring now. “Stop being an asshole and just get me some.”

“ _I'm_ an asshole?!”

“God, why do I even try with you.” Izaya closed his laptop and climbed out of the bed, reaching for his stupid fur-lined jacket.

“What are you doing?” Shizuo said.

“Isn't it obvious? I'm going to buy myself some goddamn cigarettes.”

“Why?”

“Are you getting me any?”

“Fuck no!”

“That's why.”

Shizuo watched as Izaya put his jacket on over his shirt and sweats (seriously? It was like 15 degrees out there), grabbing his card key as he headed for the door.

“You're serious,” Shizuo said, his anger dissipating.

Izaya stopped at the door and looked back at him. “About the cigarettes?” he said. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Shizuo stood there as Izaya snorted softly, everything from his red flip-flops to his eyes contemptuous. He left without another word.

Shizuo stared at the door as it fell back into place. For three seconds, he scowled at it, shaking. At the four second mark, he took a step forward, walked to the door, and followed after Izaya.

 

The walk was quiet. Izaya didn't question Shizuo when he fell into step beside him, only glancing up briefly, his face guarded. They bought their cigarettes quietly too, exchanging short, muted words with the short, muted cashier, and when they left the convenience store, they continued walking in silence.

Suddenly, Izaya stopped. They were on a boardwalk, white lights lit periodically down the road like captured stars. He shook out a cigarette and leaned against the railing, facing the beach.

“Hey, did you bring your lighter with you?” he said.

Shizuo scowled. “You didn't bring a lighter?”

“Would I be asking you if I did?”

Shizuo glared. Reluctantly, he handed it over.

“Look at you, being all civil,” Izaya said, laughing. He lit up before handing it back, and Shizuo thought, briefly, about leaving him there. Smoking outside in the middle of the night, staring at the ocean like a goddamn anime character.

“What the fuck does a Pall Mall taste like?” Shizuo said, lighting his own cigarette. He leaned against the railing too, facing away from the beach.

Izaya glanced over at him, smirking. “Want to find out?” he said.

“Fuck you.”

Izaya laughed. “It tastes much better than a Marlboro, that much I can guarantee. Seriously, how can you smoke that stuff?”

“I like it,” Shizuo said, frowning.

“Of course you do.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you're an unrefined brat who's been smoking the same brand since you were what, twelve?”

“Thirteen,” Shizuo said. He scowled at some passerby. “So what if I've been smoking the same brand?”

Izaya exhaled languidly, the white smoke curling out of his mouth almost delicately. “You're afraid of new things,” he said, with a half-smile. “You're a man of habit, Shizu-chan. Your nature is solid, immovable. It's one of the things I hate about you.”

“You get that from what brand of cigarettes I smoke?” Shizuo said, scoffing.

“No. I've just spent a lot of time around you. And I'm observant, unlike some people.”

“You don't know anything about me,” Shizuo growled.

“Well, I'm sure there _must_ be some things I don't know...”

Shizuo took a drag on his cigarette, instead of punching the flea as he laughed.

“Like your birthday,” he said, sobering, but still chuckling. He stared at his cigarette, smiling softly. “Or where you went to school.”

“Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Izaya laughed again, quietly. “You can if you want,” he said. “It's useless information anyway.”

They stood quietly in another stretch of silence. For some reason, it didn't bother Shizuo as much as it normally did. He stared at a couple several feet away from them. They were holding hands, getting closer as they strolled down the boardwalk. The man was in his pajamas, a blue and red plaid pattern that made him look ridiculous but it was clear, even from this distance, that the woman had eyes only for him.

Shizuo puffed out on his cigarette.

“You know,” he said. “The first time I ever dated was in high school. They asked me out, and I turned them down, at first, but after a while, I ended up accepting.”

Izaya leaned his head on his hand, crossing his legs. “Why?” he said.

“I got tired of refusing every single time. And I figured it couldn't hurt.”

“Why did you break up?”

Shizuo looked over at him. He blew out on his cigarette. “People found out we were dating,” he said.

“So you managed to attract one of the popular girls.” Izaya laughed. “And when her friends found out she was dating the local delinquent, they freaked. Did she break it to you gently at least?”

“It...” Shizuo blushed. He needed to stop doing that. “It wasn't...a girl.”

“What?” Izaya looked up, his dark eyes wide. “Say that again,” he said. “Look at me and say that again.”

Shizuo looked at him. Izaya was staring at him, looking honestly surprised. Looking honest.

“The first person I dated was a guy,” Shizuo said. “The first person that I – ” he cleared his throat, blushing harder. “ – that I slept with was a guy. So don't fucking think that I'm – whatever – towards you just because I wanna know what it's like or some shit.”

“Wait,” Izaya said. He turned, bodily, towards Shizuo. “You're gay?”

Shizuo scowled, looking away. “Girls, guys, what does it matter?” he said. “I don't care about things like that.”

Izaya stared for a second, and then he was leaning against the railing, laughing so hard his cigarette dropped to the floor, forgotten.

“Oh my god,” he said, between breaths. “Oh my god, you actually said it!”

Shizuo crushed his own cigarette between his fingers. “What?” he growled. “What the fuck is so funny this time?”

Izaya clutched his stomach. “Because!” he said. “Shinra was actually right!”

“Shinra? What the fuck does _Shinra_ have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Izaya said, waving him off. He turned around so that he was facing the ocean again, though by now all he could smile at was blank darkness. “So you're bi. I've got to admit, I did not see that one coming.”

Shizuo threw his cigarette on the floor, reaching for a new one. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, glaring.

“So?” Izaya said, looking at him, still smiling. “What happened with him?”

Shizuo struggled to light his cigarette. “What?”

“What happened? You managed to consummate your relationship with him, and then what?”

“Then we hung out and stuff, I guess – goddammit.” Shizuo flicked the lighter again, but his cigarette still remained unlit. His hands were shaking now, his anger rising.

“Just give it here,” Izaya said. He took the lighter from Shizuo's hands, and Shizuo let him, too frustrated to care. He stood very still as Izaya lit an open flame just two inches in front of his face. The flea smelled like his stupid Pall Malls. His hand was different, though; it still smelled a little like the soap he used – fresh, like flowery rain.

“So you 'hung out',” Izaya said, tossing Shizuo's lighter back to him. He scoffed. “How romantic. What did you do to get found out?”

“Why are you so curious?”

Izaya smiled. “Why not?”

Shizuo held his gaze for a second, and then leaned back on the railing, taking a much-needed drag on his cigarette. “Someone caught us kissing at school,” he muttered.

“Where at school?”

Shizuo glanced at him. “On the rooftop,” he said. “It was where I went to smoke most of the time. Janitor always forgot to lock it.”

“Mm-hm.” Izaya turned so that he was facing the boardwalk now instead of the beach, just like Shizuo. “What did he look like?” he said. “Your so-called lover.”

“Why do you want to know _that_?” Shizuo said.

“Just tell me. Or do you not remember?”

“Of course I remember!”

“Do you really?”

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Shizuo said. “Of course I do, I – !” He stopped. He took a breath, leaning back.

“You what?” Izaya said, staring.

“Nothing, I – ” Shizuo ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He glanced at Izaya, who was still staring. Intensely. “...He was my junior,” Shizuo found himself saying. He looked at the floor as he spoke. “A year younger. So he was smaller than me, I guess, but I don't know. He seemed bigger too, sometimes, like...he had a lot of personality. His hair was long. Shoulder-length, but he would tie it up all the time. He dyed his hair too, but not blond. It was brown. And I guess he took good care of it, 'cause it was always so soft, and it was kind of wavy, especially in the morning. That's when he took a shower. He was really fit because he did soccer, and the guy was always smiling, you know? Like – ”

“Okay, okay,” Izaya said. He rolled his eyes. “I got it. Definitely sounds like your first love.”

Shizuo blushed. “Wha – ?”

“So?” Izaya looked up at him, smiling his all-knowing smile. “How did it end?”

“I told you. People found out.”

“That doesn't tell me anything, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said. “Did you dump him? Did he dump you? Was there a big scene? Was it private? Did anyone cry?”

“No one cried!” Shizuo growled.

Izaya smirked. “He broke it off with you then.”

Shizuo drew in deeply from his cigarette. Exhaling, he let the smoke surround him, building a wall between the pest and him.

“I scared him,” Shizuo said. “I kept on fighting the guys that were picking on him, and when he told me that's not what he wanted, I got angry. We ended up fighting about that all the time, and then it kind of just...ended.”

“I'm sorry.”

Shizuo looked over. Izaya was staring ahead, at nothing in particular, but then he seemed to sense Shizuo's gaze. He turned to look at him too. Catching Shizuo's eye, he smiled.

“I'm not sleeping with you just because you told me that, you know,” he said.

Shizuo stared. Then he was smiling. Then, somehow, he was laughing. He doubled over and crushed the cigarette in his hand, the muscles in his cheeks demanding to know if this was worth it. But it was. When had been the last time Shizuo had laughed like this?

Maybe not since then.

Shizuo fell on his ass, his mangled cigarette falling to the floor. He was still laughing.

“You psychopath,” Izaya said, laughing a little too. “It wasn't that funny.”

Shizuo just sat there, riding out the giggles. Every now and them, Izaya kicked him, telling him to shut up, saying that he was an idiot, smiling with him. Eventually, Shizuo sobered up enough to suggest that they start heading back to the hotel.

“Great,” Izaya said. “It's fucking cold out here.”

This sent Shizuo off again. They did start going back, eventually. They bickered the whole way there. They shouted at each other, loud enough to make people whisper and stare and even shout at them back. They didn't notice, or care. The whole way there, neither of them stopped smiling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the relatively slow update this time! Life got in the way, as it tends to do. Hope you guys liked this chapter, I wasn't really sure how to fit everything together. Let me know what you think!


	7. Kiss Me

Shizu-chan in love. It was an odd concept.

Izaya stepped out of the way of a rowdy family in front of them, sneaking a glance at Shizuo as he went the other way.

He looked pretty neutral. Cheap sunglasses hid his eyes, but his large hands were resting at his sides, nicotine-stained but not itching for the relief. He wasn't even gnashing his teeth or glaring. As far as Izaya could tell, the beast wasn't bothered by the crowd or Izaya or anything at all, as of yet. Izaya looked over at Shinra and Celty, who were ahead of them in the throng of tourists, holding hands.

Izaya wanted to think about what that meant. He wanted to needle Shinra about the whats, the wheres, the whys, and the hows. He wanted to rejoice over the fact that he could stop dating Shizuo now. All Izaya could think about, though, as they popped into shops without buying souvenirs and walked around without purpose, was had Shizuo ever done that?

Had he blushed like Celty was doing now, as he walked through empty places – school corridors maybe – holding hands with his not-so-passionate first love? What kinds of things did they talk about, before all the fighting started? What had been the guy's name? How many times did they sleep together? When did Shizuo fall in love?

Izaya fingered the knife in his shorts, as if messing with the smooth, wooden handle would bring him closer to all the answers he wanted. At the very least, it made him feel better.

Because these questions gnawed at him. Why should Izaya care? It was always fun to learn things about Shizu-chan, of course, because information was his greatest weapon. He loved knowing that everything he gleaned about the brute could one day be used against him.

But spending precious minutes, sometimes hours, wondering if Shizuo used to hold hands with the idiot he went out with however many years ago? That was something else. That was useless information, and Orihara Izaya did not deal in useless information.

So why did this keep happening?

Shizuo suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?” he said.

Izaya nearly flinched. The idiot needed to stop grabbing him out of the fucking blue like that. “What?” he said sharply.

Shizuo let go. “Come on, we're supposed to be leaving them alone, right? The shop looks boring anyway. Let's just leave them there.”

“And get lost like last time?” Izaya said, backing a little anyway from the shop he was about to enter. “I don't think so.”

“Don't be stupid.” Shizu-chan sounded like he was rolling his eyes underneath those stupid sunglasses of his.

“Says the one who got us lost in the first place.”

Shizuo frowned. “It wasn't my fault that those two just up and left us!”

“True,” Izaya said. “I guess it isn't your fault either that you were born with a brain the size of a peanut.”

“ _Izaya!_ ”

He didn't need to see through those glasses to know the beast was glaring now. Izaya backed away a little, laughing with his hands held up.

“Okay, okay, I'll go with you. Happy?”

Shizuo sighed. He took Izaya's hand, dragging him away from the entrance to the shop, where they were receiving a few mutters and several glares. “Only if you go drown yourself in the ocean while you're at it.”

“I'm willing if you are,” Izaya said, smiling. He intertwined their fingers. “Double suicide! It doesn't get any more romantic than that, don't you think, Shizu-chan?”

“I'm down for murder-suicide,” Shizuo said, smiling a little too. “Except for I wouldn't kill myself.”

“So you want me to kill you?”

“No. I'll just kill you and not kill myself.”

“Then that's just plain old murder, Shizu-chan. Not romantic at all.”

“Who said it had to be romantic?”

“We have to give the audience what they want, don't we?”

“Well then, fuck the audience.”

Izaya laughed. “Well,” he said. “What about what I want?”

“What about it?”

“I don't want to die alone. In my last moments, I want someone to be there with me.” Izaya smiled. “If that person happens to be joining me, then even better, right?”

He noticed a couple entering a shop just ahead of them. “Hey, remember them?” he said, pointing as he leaned a little into Shizuo. “We saw them the other – ”

He looked over at Shizuo and his voice faltered. The idiot was looking at him. He was close enough now that Izaya could see his eyes behind those purple glasses, and for once, he wasn't glaring. He wasn't even laughing, or doing anything, really. He was just looking, as if there wasn't anything else to look at.

“What?” Izaya said, a little defensively.

Shizuo blinked. “What?”

“What are you staring at?” he said.

“What?” Shizuo said, looking away. “I wasn't staring.”

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn't.”

“You were.”

“I wasn't!”

“You were!”

“I fucking wasn't!” Shizuo said, crushing Izaya's hand now as he bared his teeth.

Izaya stopped smiling. “My hand's not a stress-ball,” he said. “Stop trying to strangle my fingers or I'll cut off _your_ circulation.”

“Or you could stop being such a goddamn prick,” Shizuo muttered, but he relieved the pressure on Izaya's hand all the same.

Izaya smiled, even as blood rushed uncomfortably back into his fingers. They tingled.

“Did you ever do this with him?” he said, swinging their hands a little.

“What?”

“Mr. First Love.” Izaya glanced up at Shizuo, who was looking back. “Did you do this with him.”

“Don't call him that,” Shizuo growled. “And do what? Go to the beach?”

“No. This.” Izaya pulled their hands up, grinning at their interlocked fingers like they were a secret, not out in the open where every passing person could see. “And what should I call him? Mr. Sexy Soccer Player?”

Shizuo pulled their hands back down. “You don't need to call him anything,” he said. “Especially not that.”

“How about Mr. Kissey Face? Or the Cutesy Kouhai? Or – ”

“His name was Tomoki, okay?” he said, glaring.

“Tomo-kun,” Izaya said, smiling. “Of course. I can just picture it now...”

“You don't need to picture it. Don't be creepy.”

Izaya laughed. “I'm not _creepy._ I'm just curious.”

“Well, it's creepy that you're so curious.”

You're not wrong there, Izaya thought. He was even starting to creep himself out a little at this point.

“You're my enemy,” Izaya said, out loud. “It's only natural to want to know everything about you. Celty and Shinra also think you're my boyfriend, so I probably _should_ know everything.”

“I doubt they're going to ask you if I ever held hands with my boyfriend.”

“You don't know Shinra like I do, Shizu-chan. And Celty doesn't look it, but she likes to know these things too,” Izaya lied smoothly.

Shizuo's fingers clenched, itching now for that cigarette.

“Well,” he said, after a few moments. “There was this one time. After the first time that we – you know – ”

“Fucked?”

Shizuo glared. “ _Slept together_ ,” he said. _“_ I, uh, walked him home. It was cold. I couldn't just leave him out in the middle of the night like that, all alone. Not after...you know. There wasn't anyone around, so we just held hands. I didn't really mind. He seemed over the moon about it, though, and I liked seeing that. It was cute...” He scratched the back of his head. “Why am I telling you this again?”

“Because I asked,” Izaya said, grinning. “And I know you'd do just about anything for me, right, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo scoffed. “I'd do just about anything _to_ you, Izaya.”

Izaya looked up. “Oh really?”

Shizuo blushed, his hand burning hot before he ripped it out of Izaya's. “I didn't mean – I meant killing you, I'd do anything to – !”

“Did you have anything specific in mind?” Izaya said, linking his arm through Shizuo's. He smiled, trying to hold back his laughter. “I'm not sure I'd be willing to let you do _anything,_ but I have been around. There's nothing you can come up with that I haven't tried, probably.”

“'Probably'?”

Izaya laughed a little. “Curious?”

“Fuck you!”

“If only you would.”

They stopped walking. By this point, they had wandered far enough away from the beach that there were no crowds, no eyes. The street was pretty deserted, which Izaya hadn't really noticed until now. That was rare of him. And dangerous.

“Are you being serious right now?” Shizuo said, close enough again that Izaya could see the frown in his eyes. “I can never tell with you.”

“It's easy,” Izaya said, grinning. He took Shizuo's hand, tracing a thumb over his pulse. It was easy to find. The beat was so fast. “I'm never serious.”

Izaya trailed his fingers up Shizuo's arm, as if he were following the veins. He heard Shizuo's breath hitch. It was that quiet.

“You have a lot of scars,” Izaya murmured. His fingers ghosted over every ridge and bump that marred Shizuo's right arm. “And yet here you are, the most irritating man alive.”

He stepped closer. “How do you do it?” he said. “What are you, really?”

Shizuo grabbed Izaya's wrist.

“You're one to talk.”

Izaya froze. Shizuo twisted Izaya's arm a little, so that his forearm was facing up, and Shizuo ran his fingers over the scar there.

“It's finally healed,” he said.

“Yeah. No thanks to you.”

Shizuo stared at it for a few seconds, then glanced over at Izaya. “I'm still sorry, you know,” he said. “For that time.”

“You should be – ”

Shizuo kissed his arm. Izaya pulled back a little, but Shizuo's grip stopped him.

“Don't move,” he said.

He kissed the very tip of Izaya's scar until the very end, his lips soft against the rough, ugly skin. Izaya didn't move.

Shizuo licked Izaya's inner elbow, just briefly, enough for Izaya to feel the individual pads on the tip of his tongue, and then his mouth traveled even farther. Up Izaya's bicep, just underneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. He kissed over Izaya's clothes, the heat of his lips just whispers until they found skin again. Shizuo kissed Izaya's neck and grazed his teeth up the side. He nibbled on Izaya's ear. He slid his lips along Izaya's jaw.

Izaya let him.

In fact, he had curled his fingers into Shizuo's shirt by now, breathing heavier than he would have liked. His teeth were worrying his bottom lip, as if getting it ready for more.

More never came.

Abruptly, Shizuo let go of him.

“We should be getting back,” he said, his face a little flushed, but his voice steady. “Celty and Shinra might ditch us again if we leave them alone too long.”

Izaya took a step back, trying to find his balance. “What?” he said. He licked his lips. “What about – ?”

“What about what?” Shizuo said. He stared at him, eyebrow raised.

A slight breeze whispered over the few spots on his skin that were still wet with Shizuo's saliva, and with it went any lingering sense of arousal. Izaya's mind cleared, like a slap in the face.

He'd been played.

“Nothing,” he said, smiling. He tried to will the heat out of his face. “I just wanted to check on something back at the hotel. You go ahead first.”

“You know how to get there from here?”

Izaya smirked. “Who do you think I am?” he said.

“You're right,” Shizuo said. He backed away, a smirk on his face too. “Why should I care if a flea like you gets lost?”

He turned around, walking away. Izaya whirled around and did the same, trying not to speed up, or walk too slow. He turned a corner onto another empty street, and there, he stopped.

Izaya scowled. Taking his knife out, he threw it into the wall of the building on the other side of the street, where it landed handle out, stuck in between two wooden planks.

He curled his hands into fists. He hissed at no one. He wished he could do more. He wished the building had been Shizu-chan's face.

So, that pea-brained son of a bitch mongrel wanted to play?

Izaya grabbed his phone, scrolling through the contacts. Fine, he thought.

Bring it on.

 

Finally, Shizuo thought. The last day. Tomorrow, all of them were returning to Tokyo, and Shizuo could finally, _finally,_ get away from the flea. They had been sharing a room for four days now, and that was four days too fucking long.

Especially yesterday.

Shizuo had been a little anxious that day. After he did _that_ to Izaya. It wasn't like the flea could blame him, though. It had been the perfect opportunity to get a little revenge; Shizuo just hadn't predicted that it would go so well. The cocky bastard melted under his fingers, and it took all that Shizuo had not to actually continue.

Now, Shizuo thought that he might as well have gone all the way. Because nothing he did then rose up to all the shit Izaya had been putting him through since.

For most of yesterday, Izaya had Shizuo on tenterhooks. He was perfectly polite, even nice. He didn't insult Shizuo in any way, or even try to annoy him. He poured him coffee. He talked with him about work, the weather, their stay. He even went so far as to give Shizuo a straight-out compliment. All day, Shizuo kept waiting and waiting. Thinking, maybe the flea would try to kill him. Maybe he would throw out his luggage. Maybe he would steal all his money and blow it all on sushi, Shizuo had no idea. He just wanted something.

 _Something_ instead of hanging Shizuo in the middle of that fucked-up situation, making him wait with increasing anxiety for the other foot to fall.

Then finally, it did.

Izaya had skipped out on a dinner and a movie, claiming that he wasn't feeling well. He encouraged everyone to go without him, which they did, and gladly. Everything Shizuo ate, though, seemed to taste like melted plastic. Everything, even his water. He couldn't even pay attention to the movie because he knew. He felt it in his gut. Something was waiting for him in their hotel room.

When they got back, Shizuo said good night to Shinra and Celty. Then he stood in front of their room. He took a breath.

He opened the door.

“ – coming – ngh – Kanra-chan, I'm – ah!”

The stranger with his back against the wall doubled up. His fingers gripped Izaya's hair, holding him there as his body shook into his mouth. Izaya was on the floor, just a few feet in front of the door. His face was obscured by the other man's body, but Shizuo could see that he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with long-sleeved pants. Not his rings, his jacket, or that stupid smirk.

Shizuo dropped the card key.

Izaya leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth. The stranger straightened up. He glanced over at Shizuo as he hastily tried to zip up his pants. “Sorry – ” he muttered.

Then the stranger froze too. His mouth dropped open, and so did his pants.

“Senpai?” he said.

Shizuo stared.

Izaya stood up. “'Senpai'?” he said. His voice was a little raspy. “Do you know Shizuo, Tomo-kun?”

“I – yeah,” Tomoki said. “I used to be his junior in high school. We, er, dated for a little while.”

“You did?” Izaya said, eyes glinting, even in the semi-darkness. “Well, isn't that fascinating. It really is a small world, isn't it, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo heard the sound of something snapping. His sanity, maybe.

Afterwards was a blur. Shizuo remembered pushing past Tomoki to attack Izaya. He remembered the sound of Izaya's laughter ringing in his ears. At some point, the police came to intervene. Of course, they believed poor, scrawny-ass Izaya over Shizuo, and they arrested him. “For disturbing the peace,” they said.

Shinra bailed him out that morning.

Now, Shizuo was all packed, ready to leave as soon as humanly possible. He had seen Izaya just once since then. Shizuo had been kicked out of the hotel, so Shinra booked him a one night's stay at a place nearby. The flea had been there when Shizuo got back, lying in the bed.

“Good morning!” he chirped, when Shizuo walked in. He smiled. “Rough night?”

“Izaya!” Shizuo yelled, dropping his things to get his fingers around that skinny throat. Shinra yelled too, and he tackled Shizuo from behind, or tried to. Shizuo stumbled against the sudden weight.

“Shizuo, no!”

Izaya got up from the bed, smiling even wider.

“You really are a slow learner, aren't you, Shizu-chan?” he said.

Shizuo shook Shinra off. Stomping forward, Shizuo grabbed the flea by the collar, holding him within spitting distance.

“I'm going to kill you,” he said.

“You know, after hearing you say that five billion times, I can't really bring myself to take your word on that.”

“You fucking should – !”

“No,” Izaya said. “You won't.” He brought himself closer, sliding a dry hand on top of Shizuo's. “You're going to watch me walk out of this room,” he said. “Unharmed. You're going to remember last night every time you think that you could ever be better than me. You're going to think about the face of your lover, reaching ecstasy because of me, every time you think that I'm just a man or a homo or a hole. You'll remember that you have no power over me. Because I am better than you. I'm a god amongst humans, and you? You're just a savage beast that can't think beyond your dick, your stomach, and your rage.”

Shizuo tightened his grip. “Even gods can die,” he said.

“Not by someone like you.”

The next second brought sharp pain to Shizuo's hand, and his fingers loosened just slightly, but enough. Izaya slipped out of his grasp. In the blink of an eye, he was by the door, smiling again.

“See you later!” he said, waving. “Or not.”

And he was gone.

It made Shizuo want to break something every time he thought of it.

Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? A god? Yeah fucking right. Izaya was a flea. A pest that was just ridiculously good at his job. Shizuo wanted to crush him, like the flies that hung around in his new hotel room.

How the fuck had Izaya even found Tomoki? It bothered him. Shizuo had been wondering ever since last night, and he still couldn't come up with a good answer. He hadn't said his last name. Shizuo had barely said anything about him at all. Even so, somehow, Izaya had managed to procure the only person he had ever loved out of thin air and present him in front of Shizuo, present him _cumming_ in front of Shizuo, all in less than 24 hours.

It bothered him, nagged and needled at him, because that kind of _was_ godlike. It was impossible, but Izaya had done it.

Also, it was crossing a line. Shizuo didn't know when and where this line had been made, but Izaya was a million fucking miles across it. He'd even taken the care to pour gasoline on it and set it on fire. Daring Shizuo to cross it with him.

Shizuo wanted to. He so wanted to. But what could he do? Forget about being a god, he didn't know anything about Izaya. What he cared about. What could hurt him just as bad.

He could throw his laptop out the window. Shizuo snorted at the idea. It wasn't half-bad. It didn't feel right, though. Shizuo wanted to cut deep, like Izaya had. He wanted to set Izaya's insides on fire and make him do something stupid enough to get him sent to the police. He wanted Izaya to know exactly what he had felt, when he walked through the door to see him sucking Tomoki's cock.

Shizuo stood up, pacing his room.

Okay, well, that wouldn't work. Shizuo didn't know if Izaya had ever loved someone – he probably hadn't – but either way, he wasn't going to just suck someone off.

He felt weird twitch of admiration for the flea, for being able to stick with a plan like that. Or maybe it was disgust. Maybe, it was something else.

Shizuo shook it off.

He had to think of something. He couldn't let Izaya win, especially not like this. As the complete victor.

There really wasn't anything he could do, though, short of killing him. That didn't feel right either. Shizuo wished, weirdly, that the flea was here right now. So that he could shake the information he wanted out of him. Like shaking apples from a tree.

 _How can I make you suffer, like I did?_ he wanted to ask. _How can I make you see that I'm better than you too?_

Suddenly, a knock came from the door. Or, well, more like someone was pounding their fist on it.

“Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo froze.

“Open the door, Shizu-chan!”

He stared at the door.

“Shizu-chan!” Izaya said, pounding on the door again. “I know you're in there!”

Shizuo started to move. He crossed the room. He opened the door.

“Shizu – ah!”

Izaya fell forward, stumbling into Shizuo's chest as his fist fell through air. The smell of something sickly sweet and chemical hit Shizuo at the same time.

“Oh shit,” Izaya said, pushing himself off a little. “Give me some warning next time.”

This brought Shizuo to life. “That's what I should be saying,” he growled, peeling Izaya off of him.

Izaya just shuffled past Shizuo, taking off his jacket, which was half-hanging off of him already. He toed off his shoes and plopped down on the bed. Shizuo slammed the door shut.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he said. “Get out!”

Izaya curled up, as if he was cold. “I'm sleepy.”

“Go sleep in your own fucking bed!”

“I don't want to.”

Shizuo stalked over and grabbed Izaya's wrist, jerking him up. “I don't care,” he said. “Just go away!”

“No!” Izaya's hand wrapped around Shizuo's wrist, the fingers on his other hand curling into the bottom of Shizuo's shirt. “Just for tonight,” he said. He looked up, and in the light, Shizuo could see his eyes were red around the edges, his skin pale. “Don't leave me alone.”

Slowly, Shizuo sat down on the bed too. He took Izaya's other wrist, making him let go. “Why should I do that?” he said.

“Shizuo,” Izaya said. “Please.”

Shizuo frowned, taking one of Izaya's hands into his large ones. “You're drunk,” he said. “Even though you almost never drink. And you've been crying, and you came to me, of all people. So, you're kind of freaking me out right now.” He opened Izaya's hand, staring its emptiness. “Why should I let you stay?”

Izaya stared at Shizuo. His fingers twitched. “I'm not scared of you,” he said, after several seconds. “And I don't want to be scared right now. You make me feel...” He closed his hand. “Safe.”

Shizuo ran his thumb over the thin bones in Izaya's wrist. “Because I'm not a threat to you?” he said.

“Maybe. I don't know.”

“I thought you knew everything.”

“I do.”

“Then why do you feel safe with me?” Shizuo said, looking up. Izaya's face was closer than he thought.

“Why does it matter?”

Shizuo skimmed his fingers over Izaya's forearm, the one with the scar. “Because,” he said. “It just does.”

“Shizuo.” Izaya's fingers crept over Shizuo's knee. “Don't do that.”

“Why?”

Izaya ran his hand along Shizuo's thigh, his pale skin coloring a little. “Because,” he said. “You just can't.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“I know.”

Shizuo's fingers trailed up Izaya's arm. “Give me a good reason then.”

Izaya licked his lips, his fingers pressing into Shizuo's leg. “I can't think of one.”

They were so close now. The world right then was nothing but this cheap hotel room, nothing but his bed. It was so fragile, this space between them. Shizuo felt like one breath could shatter everything. He leaned forward.

Izaya's lips were sweet this time. He tasted like a sticky blue drink that had way too much alcohol, but Shizuo liked it better than bitter coffee. And he could taste Izaya too. The salt of his body, the flowery soap he used. Izaya flicked his tongue out, tasting Shizuo too. He seemed to like it because he kept licking Shizuo's lips, kept accidentally running into Shizuo's tongue.

Then it wasn't an accident. Shizuo was pushing forward too, their lips slick with the taste of each other. Izaya leaned back and dragged Shizuo with him, his arms around Shizuo's shoulders now, his fingers threading through his hair.

Shizuo steadied himself on top of Izaya, trying to concentrate even as Izaya sucked on his tongue and slipped one of his hands underneath his shirt.

Shizuo copied him, pushing Izaya's shirt up as he let his fingers wander. Then Izaya broke their kiss, gasping.

“Don't!” he said. His nails clawed into Shizuo's skin.

Shizuo drew his hand back. “What?” he said. “What's wrong?”

Izaya closed his eyes, panting. “Nothing. Bad memories. Just don't – don't touch me. Not there.”

“Okay,” Shizuo said. He hesitated, then leaned down to kiss Izaya. Izaya responded, but only half-heartedly, and a few seconds later, he pushed a little against Shizuo's chest.

“Shizuo,” he said. “Stop.”

Shizuo pulled back. “What – ?” he started to say, but then he felt the slight tremble in Izaya's hands. Shizuo looked at Izaya. His eyes were closed. His breaths were sharp and shallow, and his face was turned a little away from Shizuo, as if searching for fresh air. Slowly, Shizuo reached up and ran light fingers across Izaya's face.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

Izaya touched Shizuo's hand. “I just need a second,” he said.

“You sure?” Shizuo rubbed a thumb over Izaya's smooth, flushed face. “We can stop if you want.”

Izaya laughed softly, opening his eyes. “I can't do that to two guys in one night,” he said.

“What?” Shizuo said. He felt something flare up inside of him. “You kissed someone else?”

Izaya glanced at him. “No one important.”

“But – !”

Izaya reached up and kissed him. “I'll tell you about it later,” he said. He wrapped his arms around Shizuo again. “Come on, you're ruining the mood.”

His hands were still shaking. Shizuo looked at him, feeling his shaky breaths.

“Actually,” he said. “Maybe some other time. I'm pretty tired.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Izaya said. He took his hands back, letting out a deep breath. “Okay.”

Shizuo leaned back, shifting off of Izaya as he climbed off the bed. “I'll turn off the lights,” he said.

Izaya sat up. “Okay, I'll – ”

“Come on, get under the covers,” Shizuo said, looking back. “You'll catch a cold sleeping like that.”

Izaya blinked. Then he smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at the bed. “Okay.”

Izaya crawled under the covers, snuggling himself in the blankets. Shizuo had to tear his eyes away. “I'll go get ready for bed,” he said.

“Mm.”

When Shizuo got back, Izaya was already fast asleep. Shizuo climbed in beside him, so that their backs were to each other. He closed his eyes, sighing.

After a few seconds, Izaya spoke up.

“Shizuo?” he said.

Shizuo opened his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You can put your arms around me, if you want.”

“No, that's okay.”

A few seconds' silence.

“Shizuo?”

 _“_ What _?”_

“Put your arms around me.”

Shizuo hesitated. Izaya whined a little, softly. Smiling, Shizuo turned around and wrapped his arms around Izaya. He didn't question it when Izaya took his hand, only listening as Izaya sighed quietly. After a few seconds, Shizuo threaded their fingers together.

 


	8. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little different. I switch POVs multiple times, just because doing it only once made the chapter too short. Just a heads up!

When Izaya woke up, Shizuo was gone. He blinked into the early morning sunlight, groaning. His head pounded dully, his mouth dry, and his body felt like it was made of sandpaper. Ugh. He was never going to drink again.

Izaya sat up, head in his hands. The room was empty, quiet; it was still dark enough to justify staying in bed. He clutched at his hair.

Shizuo. He had come to his hotel room. He had made out with him. He had fallen asleep right beside him.

Why.

Why did he do that? Why did Shizuo _let_ him do that? Safe...yes, Izaya had felt...scared. Alone. He shouldn't have drunken so much, it never ended well...

He had been with Tomoki. He'd spent all day with the guy. Izaya had gone through hell to search him out, and the universe had given him the stroke of luck of having Tomoki actually living in Okinawa.

Luck, huh...

Either way, Izaya wasn't going to just let him go. He was curious. Tomoki was Shizuo's past, real, tangible proof of the life he'd had, of the fact that he actually swung both ways.

Izaya couldn't let him go.

Apparently, Shizuo liked sweets. He and Tomoki would always go out to crepe shops, or places that had really good cake. They also went out to movies all the time, apparently, Shizuo was big on them. His brother was an actor, Tomoki said, didn't you know?

Shizuo didn't like to read, he lacked the patience. Sometimes, though, they would sit up on the roof, Shizuo's head in his lap as Tomoki read to him. Shizuo wasn't really into academics either (no surprise there), but he really only started getting bottom marks around the time they broke up and after. He spent a lot of time fighting, after.

Izaya didn't know what he wanted to do with all this information. He just...wanted it. Tomoki kept on veering away from the subject, he kept on wanting to know about Izaya, but Izaya wasn't an information broker for nothing.

Still, Tomoki was getting frustrated by the end. “Why?” he kept on asking. “Why do you want to know?”

Izaya wished he knew himself.

Instead of answering, Izaya invited him out for a drink. To loosen the tongue. They went to a few bars. Izaya hadn't intended to drink himself, but Tomoki refused to drink or answer any questions until he did. And then they were in Tomoki's apartment. They stumbled into Tomoki's bed. Izaya didn't know why he was doing this. Why he was in some stranger's bed after going nearly a year without sleeping with anyone. He didn't know. And these question kept thudding against the buzz in his brain, knocking into the haze of alcohol until they finally broke through.

Daisuke. Guns. Pain. Blood. Hot. Cold. Dying...

Izaya nearly punched Tomoki in the face in his rush to get out of there. He made it out into the street. He threw up. He walked back to the hotel, or tried to. He fell down on the sidewalk, dizzy, sobbing, but he didn't know what for.

The world felt too big, suddenly. Empty, with no stars. Just a giant black canvas overhead, waiting to suffocate Izaya when the time was right.

He was coughing, there was acid in his throat. He wiped his mouth. His face. He crawled up and started heading towards the only place he could think of being right then.

He couldn't believe Shizuo let him in. He couldn't believe Shizuo.

Izaya sighed now, pressing his hands into his eyes. They had a flight later that morning. Maybe that's where Shizuo went. All of his luggage was gone, as well as Shizuo himself. He probably didn't want to be in the same room as Izaya at the moment, and frankly, Izaya felt the same way.

Because this was confusing. None of it made any sense. Usually, Izaya wouldn't hesitate to dive headfirst into a messy situation, but this was different. This was his mess this time.

Izaya got up, heading into the bathroom. He was supposed to meet Shiki later today. He laughed. At himself. At everything. He cupped some water in his hands and gulped it down. He splashed it on his face. It didn't make him feel better.

As Izaya was leaving, a hotel employee flagged him down. Apparently, Shizuo had said that Izaya was going to pay for the room fee.

Izaya burst out laughing.

 

Shizuo sat in the airport. Even this early in the morning, there were still plenty of people around. He glanced at a boy a few seats away from him, reading a translated version of _Harry Potter_. Tomoki had read the first few books to him, once. They'd been pretty good.

He looked away. Shizuo stared down at his phone, which was playing a trailer of Kasuka's new movie. It was an action-thriller, with vampires and a lot of blood.

Shizuo smiled a little when Kasuka appeared on the tiny screen.

When it was over, he switched off his phone, opting instead to stare at the floor. It was carpeted, blue with faint red swirls.

Shizuo liked Izaya.

There was no denying it now, not after everything. But the thing was, he also hated Izaya. He hated it when Izaya was a little shit, when he insulted Shizuo or acted like he was better than everyone else. He hated that the bastard had dragged Tomoki back into his life like that.

But...

What Izaya had said, last night, the way he'd acted. The way he looked all the time, the way he blushed. How funny he could be, how engaging when he was playing nice. Even now, Shizuo wished he could be with _that_ Izaya, talking with him and holding his hand.

But it was impossible, wasn't it? Izaya was a lot of things, but he wasn't kind, not even a little bit. There was no getting around that. Shizuo couldn't be with someone like him, even if Izaya actually wanted to.

He would just have to wait until these feelings went away, put distance between them. It shouldn't be too hard. They were probably going to “break-up” now that Celty and Shinra seemed to have gotten together. After that, there would be no reason to see him.

Shizuo clenched his hands into fists. He would just have to get through their two and a half hour flight back to Tokyo together.

He put his head in his hands, groaning.

 

“I'll tell her you're an underground doctor.”

Shinra shrugged as he sat on the bed – Shizuo's bed – watching Izaya pack. “Then where would all your leverage go?” he said. “You do that and you'll never get me to do anything for you again. Would you really go that far to avoid Shizuo?”

Izaya threw his clothes down onto his bed. “If you switch seats with me, I'll owe you a favor,” he said, through clenched teeth.

“As tempting as that sounds,” Shinra said, smiling. “There's nothing you can do or say to get me to give up spending an almost three-hour flight right next to my one true love.”

“Fine. Then I'll ask Celty.”

Shinra laughed. “You know she hates you, right?”

“She doesn't hate Shizu-chan, does she? I'll tell her that I'm doing it for him. That I'll just make him feel uncomfortable.”

“Like she'd believe anything you say to her.”

“She believed me when I said I was dating Shizuo, right?” Izaya said, smirking a little.

“No,” Shinra said. “She believed Shizuo when he said he was dating you. Even though we both think he's too good for you.”

“Isn't Celty the one that's too good for you?” Izaya snapped.

Shinra looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Izaya looked away. “Anyway,” he said. He bent down to pick up one of his socks. “I could probably get Shizuo to ask her. I don't think he wants to spend that much time with me either.”

“What makes you say that?”

Izaya laughed. “Other than the fact that I blew his ex, drunkenly made out with him and then passed out?” he said. “Gee, I wonder.”

“You never know,” Shinra said, laughing too. “Maybe he wants to talk it out.”

“Maybe he wants to smother me in my sleep.”

“You won't have time to sleep on a three-hour flight.”

“That's not the point.”

“Then what is the point, Izaya?” He grabbed a pillow, hugging it comfortably. “You want to take the coward's way out? Avoid your feelings like that forever?”

Izaya paused in folding his clothes. “Feelings?” he said, looking up. “What feelings?”

“Oh come on, Izaya,” Shinra said, rolling his eyes. “I know you're in love with him. You can't hide something like that from me.”

“In – what?!” Izaya straightened up, abandoning his clothes. “Have you been paying attention at all?” he said. “Or have you been too caught up in your own stupid romance to notice? I hate him. He hates me. We're enemies. We – ”

“Make out and flirt with each other constantly?”

“When have we ever _flirted_?”

“This whole trip,” Shinra said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you not notice?”

“Maybe when we were in front of you guys – ”

“So you did notice.”

“ – but only because we were acting,” Izaya said, scowling. “We were pretending to be boyfriends, remember?”

“Seemed awfully real to me.”

“Well, I'm a good liar.”

“Looks like it,” Shinra said, letting go of the pillow. “Since you've managed to keep lying to yourself this entire time.”

Izaya exhaled sharply, getting back to his clothes. “I'm _not_ in love with him,” he said.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Izaya balled up a shirt and threw it at him. Shinra just laughed.

 

Shizuo stared ahead at the coach seat in front of him. There was a really tall, bald guy sitting there. Everyone was getting ready to take-off, finding their seats, putting away their carry-ons, going to the bathroom while they could.

He and Izaya were just sitting. Next to each other. Not talking. The rest of the plane was loud, all hustle and bustle, but the space where the two of them were sitting was completely dead. And completely charged. At the very least, Shizuo got the window seat.

He was looking out the window when Izaya spoke up.

“Celty really won't switch seats with you?” he said.

Shizuo scowled. “I told you already. She said no.”

“Try asking one more time.”

“She was pretty adamant about it.”

“Do you even know what adamant means?”

Shizuo whipped around, glaring. “Izaya – !” he said, but Izaya wasn't looking at him. He was staring at the rings on his fingers, playing with them, frowning as if he was thinking of something else, a million miles away.

Shizuo turned back to the window.

After what felt like forever, they finally got up in the air, and it felt better there, even though really, Shizuo was stuck in the same situation. He watched as Okinawa got smaller and smaller, staring at the blue ocean.

After they broke into the field of clouds, there wasn't really anything to look at anymore. Still, Shizuo stared out the window. It was better than the alternative.

A few minutes later, Izaya got up and left, probably for the bathroom. Shizuo didn't care. He just took a deep, long breath. Relaxing into the chair, he closed his eyes. There was a green stain in the darkness behind his eyelids, from looking at the sun too long.

He couldn't stand two and a half hours of this. He just couldn't. But they were a thousand feet up in the air, and he didn't have a choice. He should have just booked another flight when he could, but even if he'd thought of it earlier, it wasn't like he had the money.

He leaned his head against the wall. Maybe Shizuo could just pretend the sleep. Maybe he could actually fall asleep.

This was fucking stupid. Celty had refused to switch seats because she'd wanted them to 'talk things out.' She said this was the perfect opportunity. But there wasn't anything to talk about; it wasn't like they were actually dating.

Was that what Shizuo wanted to do, deep down? Date Izaya?

He grimaced at the thought. Maybe Izaya had been right. Maybe Shizuo didn't actually _like_ the flea, maybe he only wanted his body.

He sighed. If only it were that simple.

Izaya clambered back into the seat next to him, making Shizuo open his eyes. So much for the sleeping plan.

“I can't believe there isn't a single open seat around here,” Izaya muttered, as if to himself.

Shizuo couldn't help it. He laughed. Izaya looked over at him, as if his smile was abstract art. Clearing his throat, Shizuo avoided his eyes. He looked back at the window.

Half an hour later, Shizuo was still looking out the window. They had talked once, when Shizuo asked Izaya to get out of the way so he could get to the bathroom. Shizuo probably spent a good ten minutes in there, avoiding Izaya.

He passed Shinra and Celty on the way, who were so engrossed in each other, they didn't even notice Shizuo when he waved.

Izaya was reading now. It was a book Shizuo knew; he and Tomoki had spent three months trying to get through it. The book wasn't long, it was just that boring. At the time, they had dared each other; Tomoki to actually put up with reading through the whole thing, Shizuo to actually listen to it. Both of them failed.

Shizuo had no idea why Izaya was reading that book now. Maybe he actually found it interesting.

Shizuo peeked over, once. He recognized a passage. It was about the main character – an old man named Tanaka – peeling some chestnuts in a grove. Shizuo remembered because of how many times Tomoki had to read it to him; Shizuo kept falling asleep.

He looked away. At his fingers. At the bald man in front of him. He'd put on a hat. Several minutes later, Shizuo peeked over again. Izaya was still on the same page.

“Are you actually reading that?” Shizuo said, unable to help it.

Izaya looked up. “What?”

“Your book,” he said. “You're not actually reading it, are you?”

“No, I'm just appreciating how pretty the words looks on the page,” Izaya said, scoffing. “Of course I'm reading it.”

“But you've been on the same page for like ten minutes.”

“Are you watching me read?”

Izaya was staring at him, and he looked so weird without that smile on his face. Shizuo glared. “No,” he said. “'Cause you're not actually reading.”

“So then you're just watching me.”

“Why are you reading that book?” Shizuo said, his eye twitching. “Are you trying to fall asleep or something?”

Izaya looked back at his book. “Someone recommended it to me,” he said.

“Well, that person's got shitty taste.”

“He really does.”

“But you're still gonna read it?” Shizuo said, snorting.

Izaya sighed. “At this point, I'd rather shoot myself in the head.”

Shizuo smiled, turning to the window so that Izaya couldn't see it. “I can tell you what happens,” he said, to the clouds.

“And spoil all my hard work?”

Shizuo looked over. Izaya was smiling a little too. “Then I'm definitely telling you.”

Izaya caught his eye, saw his smile. “I didn't know you were capable of such cruelty,” he said, looking back at the book. “Clearly, I've underestimated you.”

“Well, that's your mistake, isn't it?”

Izaya snorted softly, still staring at the book. Suddenly, he closed it. “Okay,” he said, turning to Shizuo. “I give up. Just tell me what happens.”

Shizuo leaned back in his seat. “Actually,” he said. “I changed my mind. You should find out for yourself.”

“Shizuo,” Izaya said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I'm going to die of boredom if I read anymore of that book.”

“Good.”

Izaya laughed. “I'll stink up the plane if I died now.”

“We could probably land somewhere to drop you off.”

“You know we're flying over the sea right now, right?”

Shizuo looked at the window. “Do I have to?” he said, trying not to smile.

Izaya lightly hit Shizuo's hand with the book. “Come on,” he said. “I'll even return the favor.”

“With what?” Shizuo said, looking over.

Izaya looked a bit taken aback. Shizuo realized he had said that a little too seriously. He opened his mouth, about to make the situation even more awkward, but then Izaya cut him off.

“Whatever you want,” he said. He looked steadily at Shizuo, even though he sounded as if he had surprised himself with his own words. “I'll give it to you, whatever it is.”

“He dies in the end,” Shizuo blurted out. Tomoki had looked up the ending after they'd given up too. He tried to remember everything he'd told him, all those years ago. “His daughter inherits everything from him, and he passes away happy, knowing that he'll be with his wife.”

“Really?” Izaya said. He looked away from Shizuo. “I read all of that just to have him die in the end? That's an hour of my life completely wasted.”

“Hey,” Shizuo said. “Did you mean it? About the favor?”

Izaya stared at the book, even though it was closed now. “Yes.”

“Then...” Then what? What did Shizuo want from Izaya? _Go die_ , he imagined himself saying. _Never come near me again._

He also heard himself say, _Go out with me._ _Fall in love with me. Be with me because you want to, and not because you have to._

“...read the rest of that book to me.”

Izaya looked up at him. “What?”

“After that,” Shizuo said, looking back. “No more, okay? No more of this. Of you and me, and whatever this is. That sound good?”

Izaya stared. Then he looked down at the book. “Yes,” he said. He opened the it, looking at the pages as if he'd forgotten how to read. “I said I'd do anything, right?”

“Yeah.”

When the finally landed, one and a half hours later, Shinra and Celty had to shake them awake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I felt that this chapter was needed after the emotional rollercoaster I put you (and Izaya and Shizuo) through in the last one. I didn't think I could write this chapter so soon, but everyone's comments spurred me on :D Hopefully, this was a nice calm after the storm (even though it was kind of heartbreaking)


	9. Secrets in the Dark

Once, when they were fake dating, the four of them watched a movie together. They were in Shizuo's apartment for once, crowded around his tiny couch as the TV light flickered in the dark. Shinra and Celty had actually claimed the couch, so Izaya and Shizuo were sitting on the itchy, carpeted floor right in front of it.

Halfway into the movie, Izaya realized that the stupid carpet didn't bother him anymore. He also realized that his hand was lying on the floor. Palm-up, resting. Shizuo's hand just a breath away.

Izaya felt a charge, as if this sudden realization was enough to electrify everything from his hand to his shoulder and leave a tingling hum along the left side of his palm. He wanted to know what it would feel like to close the distance. His hand twitched. Their fingers brushed, and Izaya felt Shizuo, a whisper of his heat, the roughness of his skin.

The charge intensified, instead of calming. Izaya's hand twitched again, but not of his own volition. A brush, a whisper. He bit his lip. Izaya wanted to know if he had passed some of that electricity along.

Shizuo's hand moved suddenly. His fingers wrapped around Izaya's, warm and large, twitching every now and then. Izaya's consciousness heightened. It focused on his hand, painstakingly registering every movement that Shizuo made. They were awkward, the two of them. One of them should pull away. But eventually, Shizuo relaxed. His fingers didn't twitch, his hand didn't move. Izaya smiled secretly when he realized this.

By the end of the movie, Shizuo's hand was resting simply in Izaya's, as if touching this part of him had always been a matter of course. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you guys liked this little scene, since I know that I kind of skipped over the majority of the time Izaya and Shizuo spent "dating" (but actually) in that time-skip before the beach. I'll actually be pretty busy for the time being since school is starting up again, so I really don't know when I'll be able to put up a new chapter. Just fair warning, it might be a while :'( I really don't want to give up on this story, though...we'll just have to wait and see!


	10. Dead and Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So, it's been a while, but this chapter only has Izaya's POV. I'll post Shizuo's half of this in the next chapter, which might be in a few weeks? Sorry for having such an unpredictable schedule! For now, though, please enjoy! (but fair warning, still continuing with the sadness for now)

“Want me to look at those for you?”

Izaya paused in reaching for a new shirt. “Look at what?” he said.

Shinra stared at him from his desk. He looked exhausted, having spent the past few days studying vigorously for his midterm, and irritated, as if Izaya had been the one to interrupt his studying.

“You're covered in injuries,” Shinra said, glaring. “As your doctor, do you really expect me to just sit here and let you walk around like that?”

Izaya scowled, looking away. He grabbed his shirt and put it on, trying not to wince as he felt the tug of so many bruises and scarred-over cuts.

“You don't even have your license yet, 'doctor'.”

Shinra shrugged. “A formality,” he said. “I've brought you back from the brink of death, Izaya. I'm your doctor. And as your doctor, I'm telling you that you need help. You're mistreating yourself so much it's kind of insulting at this point.”

“Just because you've seen my intestines doesn't mean you have any kind of say in what I choose to do with my body,” Izaya said. He slipped his feet into his shoes. He looked over to where Shinra was still staring at him. “And it's insulting how you seem to think otherwise.”

“I'm also your friend, you know,” Shinra said, sighing. He leaned back in his chair. “Why don't you just go talk to him?”

Izaya put on his tan coat, the one he wore to a matsuri, so long ago. “You're the one so obsessed with the idea,” he said. “Why don't you go get buddy-buddy with the beast, if you're so eager.”

“Izaya, I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

Shinra scowled. “You're going to get yourself killed at this rate.”

“You think I'd have any better chances at staying alive if I talked to Shizu-chan?”

“Couples have a longer life span than single people, you know.”

“ _Married_ couples.”

“So you want to get married now?”

Izaya felt his eye twitch. “Thank you for your concern,” he said. He grabbed his keys and phone, heading for the door. Before he left, he threw Shinra a smile. “But next time, save it for someone who cares.”

Shinra rolled his eyes.

Izaya slammed the door.

 

So, Izaya had been a little reckless lately. He admitted it. Shiki had been 'too busy' to practice with him, right when Izaya wanted the fighting the most, the validation, the high. This was annoying, not the least because Shiki shouldn't have been able to withhold anything of value to Izaya. Not like this. Mostly, though, it was because he was frustrated. Not because he needed a heart-to-heart talk with Shizu-chan, like Shinra so idiotically wanted to believe, but because of a girl.

Amamiya Noriko.

According to Shiki, the girl shouldn't have been this hard to find. Her face was completely plain, just a baby-faced high schooler, but the rest of her body was allegedly littered with burn marks, knife marks, the marks of whips. She shouldn't have been in good enough shape, mentally or physically, to be able to hide herself so well, not from Izaya.

He monitored the nearby hospitals, for their living and their dead. He kept a finger on the major airports for any young, lone female buying a ticket out of Tokyo with cash. He kept an eye on any police reports that involved woebegone teenage girls. He kept his other eye on various forums, to see if anyone had seen the girl at an Internet cafe, on the street, in their apartment, anywhere. He even circled the homeless population, asking if they had seen her, and the underground, asking if they had killed or fucked her.

But nothing. The girl was a ghost. Even his lead at Karma Financial had been a bust. It turned out that Noriko-chan's father, Amamiya Noriaki, was dead. He had owed money to many people, not just Karma Financial, and one of those people had made sure to fuck everyone else over by simply killing him. Izaya wasn't the only one hunting for his only living relative.

But she'd had no friends, no cousin to fall back on. All of her classmates had completely forgotten about her. Even her teachers.

At this point, Izaya was seriously doubting if this girl even existed.

So yes, Izaya was frustrated. He might have been taking it out on whoever he could rope into a good fight, but Shinra was just adding to his annoyances by pointing this out.

Today, Izaya was visiting Amamiya Noriaki's grave for the fifth time this week. Considering how far underground this girl had gone to evade even Izaya's gaze, she probably didn't even know her father had passed away, but he had some free time and no better ideas.

He walked across the little bridge that connected the parking lot to the lush, green field. The graveyard was just outside of the city, making it unnervingly silent, except for the rustling of blooming trees and the trickle of a small creek.

Izaya made the now-familiar trek to the gravestone. He looked down at the simple plate, filled with information he had provided. He'd went so far as to bury this stranger. He had put the man in the obits, listing the place where he had been buried, for all the world, for _her_ , to see.

But it had been five days, including today. She wasn't there. Izaya crouched down, staring at the man's name.

_Amamiya Noriaki._

_August 20, 1986 – October 13, 2017._

He had been 31, not much older than Izaya. If Noriko-chan was 16 now, then he must have been 15 when he had her. Izaya grimaced. 'Noriko'* – probably named after Noriaki himself and not the mother, who passed away in childbirth. He must have loved her immensely. He must have been immensely stupid.

Absently, Izaya reached out and patted the cold, stone plate, engraved with nothing but a thick border for decoration.

“May you rest in peace, Amamiya-san,” he murmured.

He tucked his hand back to his stomach, wiping it on his coat. The plate had been bone-cold and wet with dew. Izaya stared at it, at the border of fresh dirt and green grass, sighing.

So maybe he missed the big oaf a little. A few months had passed, and he'd kept their promise. He hadn't talked to Shizuo or even seen him, and Shizuo hadn't looked for him either. They announced their 'break-up' to Celty and Shinra, but that was it. That was weeks and weeks ago.

Izaya tried not to think about it. It wasn't even worth thinking about. They'd known each other for what, about a year? The majority of which they spent in utter, mutual hatred.

Izaya tried to bring that up now, that weird, burning detest he'd felt whenever he looked at Shizu-chan.

He saw his face, his golden eyes and golden hair. He looked relaxed, and he was smiling, not the way he did when they fought, but softly. It made the image blurry, because Izaya had only seen him smile like that a handful of times.

Izaya remembered the way he laughed, the sound restricted, like Izaya would steal it from his lips if he laughed too long. He remembered the way he smelled, his cigarettes, his cheap soap.

His kissed had been sweet, his touches gentle. No one had ever touched him like Shizuo had, not when he lost his virginity to his classmate in high school, not when he'd had one-night stands with men he knew but who didn't know him, not when he spent so many consecutive nights with Daisuke, in hotel rooms, in his room. Izaya clutched his arm.

 _You're in love with him_ , Shinra had said.

Izaya snorted.

Love?

Love was a bond. An understanding. It was a connection that saved people every day, in little ways, and a weight that could destroy people in an instant. Izaya had never experienced anything like that, not personally. He never would. Because love was also a choice. A dangerous one. And no matter how much Izaya was drawn to dangerous things, this one he didn't dare touch.

Hadn't he learned anything from Daisuke?

Back then, he'd become too attached – a year had been too long. Sometimes, even a single night was too long, as he'd proven just weeks ago...

Izaya put his head on his knees, blocking out even more light. He still didn't want to believe that had happened. He'd gotten drunk, he'd had what could only be categorized as a mild panic attack...

He couldn't believe that the whole, idiotic thing with Daisuke had affected him that much. It was probably because he'd been wasted, but that gnawed at him too.

Izaya didn't like drinking. It killed your brain cells, and he hated the feeling of being so out of control, of both his mind and his body. But because of Shizuo...

Because of Shizuo?

Izaya dug his fingers into his clothes, as if he could reach skin.

Why Shizuo?

Maybe Shinra _was_ right. Maybe some part of him was fond of the beast. Like the part of him that still clung to his memories of Daisuke, this other part of him existed too, a part that wanted to hold Shizuo's hand, kiss Shizuo's lips, sleep on Shizuo's lap, and feel Shizuo's arms around him.

Would that be so bad? this part of him said. Shizuo's not like Daisuke, not like anyone else for that matter. He's caring and innocent. He can be violent, but he's trustworthy. He's safe.

Izaya exhaled sharply.

If that part did exist somewhere in him, it need to be locked away and buried somewhere deep, just like the other part of him. Just like the dead all around him.

“Hey.”

He knew that voice.

“Izaya?”

He heard white noise.

“Izaya, is that you?”

For a long heartbeat, Izaya didn't do anything. Then he took a breath.

_Speak of the devil..._

Slowly, he got up, arranging his face into a smile. Shizuo stared at him from a few feet away, looking just as shocked.

“Hello,” he said. “Long time, no see.”

“Not long enough,” Shizuo said. He put his hands in his coat pockets, the hideous blue one Izaya had first seen him in. “What were you doing?”

Izaya put his hands in his pockets too. “How have you been?” he said, pointedly ignoring the question. “Shinra hasn't mentioned anything, but then again, I heard Shinra wasn't welcome at your workplace anymore. You probably haven't seen him in a while either, or Celty, for that matter.”

“I saw them the other day,” he said. “We went out for lunch.”

“Ah. I see.”

Shizuo stared at his feet. Izaya stared at Shizuo.

A small breeze flickered through the grass.

His hair was longer. He looked taller too, somehow. His normally golden eyes were shaded in by the gray sky above so that they looked black, and this made him seem distant, a stranger. Not the gentle man of his memories.

“It's a little chilly today, isn't it?” Izaya said, hunching his shoulders a little for effect. “And the setting isn't all too ideal either, for a meeting like this. Would you like to – ”

“You know I don't, Izaya.”

Izaya shut his mouth, smiling a little. “Then I guess I should be going now,” he said. “I would say it was nice seeing you, but...”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said, snorting softly.

“Yeah,” Izaya echoed. He took a step back. “See you later – ”

“Are you okay?” Shizuo said.

Izaya stopped. “What?”

Shizuo stepped a little closer, his eyes glancing at the grave just behind Izaya. “Are you okay?” he said. “This person, you were crouched over his grave. You're even wearing your fancy coat. And your face... you look like you're about to cry.”

“I – ”

Izaya stood there, shocked. For the second time in a span of minutes, Shizuo had jammed his mind, rendering him speechless. Izaya cursed himself. It was that stupid part of him, the one freshly uncovered. The one he hadn't had the chance to bury yet.

“I'm fine,” he choked out. He looked at the grass. “I didn't know him well.”

“Don't lie to me, Izaya.”

Izaya glanced at him, at the distrust written all over his face. For some reason, this annoyed him.

“Why are _you_ here?” he said. “Been stalking me, Shizu-chan?”

“I'm visiting someone,” Shizuo said, scowling. “Just like you.”

“My condolences.”

“I don't need your shitty condolences.”

“You can pass them along, then. I never needed them much either.”

Shizuo's scowl twitched. “Why are you really here?” he said.

“Would you believe it if I said I came to see you?”

Shizuo shifted his feet, the look on his face ridiculously easy to read. Izaya cracked a smile.

“I didn't,” he said, scoffing. “Rest assured, I'm just here for Amamiya-san.”

“Amamiya-san,” Shizuo said, looking back at the grave. “Your friend?”

“No,” Izaya said. “My uncle, allegedly.”

“Your uncle?”

“My long-lost uncle, from my mother's side. Or was it my father's? Either way, I didn't know him well. Only stories.”

Shizuo glanced at Izaya. “You really didn't know him?”

“I really didn't.”

“Why are you here, then?” Shizuo said. “If you didn't know him that well?”

“You still haven't told me why you're here, you know,” Izaya said, clicking his tongue. “If you expect me to cooperate just like that, answer some of my questions too, Shizu-chan.”

“Well, I'm not the one planning to take over the world, or whatever shit you do in your free time.”

“I've thought about it, once upon a time,” Izaya said, smiling a little. He glanced up at Shizuo. “Decided it didn't suit me after all.”

Shizuo blinked at him, then with a start, realized he was staring.

“Yeah, well,” he said, quickly looking away. “Don't strain yourself.”

Izaya held back a laugh. “So, Shizuo – ” he said. The name tasted sweet in his mouth, startling him. He pushed through.

“ – you never answered my question. Who are you visiting?”

Shizuo scratched the back of his head. “This onee-chan who used to work in our neighborhood,” he said, his face softening. “She passed a year ago today.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.”

The trees rustled mutedly, from far away. A cold drop of rain caught Izaya's cheek, surprising him, although the steel-gray clouds told him it shouldn't have.

“So are you gonna answer my question, Izaya?”

Izaya looked at him. “What?”

“How are you doing?” Shizuo said, his sun-brown eyes on Izaya. “Don't lie. I can tell when you're lying.”

“No you can't,” Izaya said, scoffing.

“Try me.”

A raindrop plopped onto his forehead, and he quickly wiped it away. “It's starting to rain,” he said. “Maybe some other time – ”

“Shinra told me,” Shizuo said. He stood resolute against the sudden raindrops, against Izaya. “The other day, when we met up for lunch. He said you've been going out and getting yourself hurt. He said I should talk to you about it.”

“Did he?” Izaya said. He wiped his face again, glaring. “Is that why you're still here? Because Shinra _told_ you to?”

“It's true, isn't it?” Shizuo said, ignoring him. “I saw how hard it was for you stand up just now, and you've got that cut on your cheek.”

“A cut on my cheek is hardly a death sentence, Shizu-chan.”

“But you never let people near your face.” Shizuo stepped closer suddenly, and he brushed a finger across the small wound. “You're slipping,” he said.

 _“Slipping?”_ Izaya scoffed, slapping his hand away. “It looks like Shinra told you all about his absurd, little theory. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm perfectly fine, now more than ever. I should have cut you out of my life a long time ago.”

“Yeah, you're real convincing.”

Izaya scowled up at Shizuo, even as the rain picked up, hitting his face, his eyes, the open cut on his cheek.

“What, so you think I'm in love with you?” he said. “Is that it? That I'm some freshly minted teenage girl stuck ass-deep in a fucking shoujo manga? You think I would just drop my life to wallow in the fragments of a stupid, broken heart; you think I have the kind of heart that could be broken? I know what it's like to be just a few breaths away from these piles of bones in the ground – you think I care about love? I'm not a fucking child! You and Shinra both, you think I'm weak. I'm not. I could put both of you six feet under without even lifting a fucking finger! I am Orihara _fucking_ Izaya! I can't be swayed by love or sex, or whatever the fuck you think this is, so you just go and report that to the good doctor the next time you two cuddle up together to try and play fucking psychoanalyst with me!”

Izaya panted, his ears buzzing. The rain was falling steadily now; he had to keep blinking away stray water. He licked his lips. They felt strangely dry.

Shizuo was staring at him, wide-eyed.

“I – I need to go,” he said, still breathing heavily. He felt almost nauseous.

Izaya made to back away, but then Shizuo took his wrist.

“Let go – !”

“Izaya,” he said.

Izaya stilled, every nerve in his body ringing. Shizuo leaned close.

“I don't think you're weak.”

Izaya shivered, closing his eyes.

“I think you're stupid,” he said, laughing a little. “But not weak.”

“You're calling _me_ – ?”

Soft and gentle, Shizuo's lips pressed against his forehead. Then they disappeared, and it was the warmth of his large forehead against Izaya's.

“Maybe you don't want to admit it,” Shizuo said, quietly. “But I missed you. A lot.”

“What?” Izaya said. He laughed a little, disbelievingly. “But you said – you were the one who made me promise – ”

“I know.”

Izaya paused. “You hate me,” he said.

“Do you hate me?”

“Shizuo – ”

“Just answer the question, Izaya.”

Izaya swallowed, his throat dry. He opened his eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “I hate you.”

Shizuo sighed, and Izaya felt the breath on his eyelashes. “Then that's how it is,” he said.

“...Yeah. I guess.”

Shizuo backed away. Suddenly, there was raining hitting Izaya's face again.

Shizuo put his hands back into his stupid, coat pockets.

“I'll see you later, Izaya,” he said.

Izaya clenched his hands into fists, trying to smile as Shizuo turned and left him as before, in the rain, with only Amamiya-san for company.

“Bye-bye,” he said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Ko" in Japanese means "child", so "Noriko" mean "child of Nori", as far as I know


	11. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! It's been a while, but as promised, here's Shizuo's POV for the previous chapter. Not sure when I'll come out with the next chapter, but I'll work on it! Enjoy!

What should he have done?

Shizuo stared absently in front of him as he walked back into the city, itching for a cigarette.

What could he have done? he thought, glaring at the rain.

He had just seen Izaya. For the first time in months. Despite his fancy clothing, he'd looked ragged, his cheeks hollow. Shizuo had left him among the graves like that, pale and skinny, with nothing but a coat to shelter him, a coat that was getting stained steadily darker and darker by rainwater. Shizuo wished he could run back and crush him to his chest.

Why, after all these weeks and months, did Izaya have to suddenly pop up out of thin air like that? Popping in and out of his life as he pleased, just as he always did. Except, Izaya had barely looked pleased about anything this time.

Well, they did meet in a graveyard, but still.

Why exactly was Izaya there? Who was this Amamiya-san?

Now that Shizuo thought about it, Izaya never really answered the question. Not like any of that mattered, though. Not anymore.

Hadn't he decided that from the start?

Shizuo brushed the rain out of his face, storming forward.

Shinra had called him out of the blue the other week.

“Just because you and Izaya aren't talking, doesn't mean we can't stay friends, right?” he'd said. Shizuo wanted to say, yes, that was exactly what it meant.

Because he could talk with Celty fine, and he had many times over the weeks. But Shinra? No offense to Celty, but Shinra was straight-up annoying. And for some reason, he reminded Shizuo too much of Izaya.

So, of course he'd refused to meet up for lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast. Or coffee. Shizuo didn't even like coffee, although Izaya did. Izaya took his coffee black.

In the end, it was Celty who convinced/tricked him into having lunch with Shinra. She'd said it would only be the two of them, and turned out it wasn't. He still hadn't completely forgiven her for that.

Because what else had Shinra wanted to talk about but Izaya?

Izaya's been acting strange lately, he'd said. Izaya's always getting himself hurt. Izaya said he's fine, but he's clearly just in denial.

In denial about what?

About how he's madly in love with you, of course.

_Of course._

Shizuo stopped chewing his sushi and promptly started choking on it. Celty hurriedly handed him a glass of water, and Shinra just looking on, bemused.

“What?!” Shizuo said, coughing.

Shinra rolled his eyes. “You guys are so hopeless,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Shizuo growled, his voice scratchy.

Shinra opened his mouth to answer, looking way too happy about it, but he stopped at a glance from Celty.

[Shizuo] Celty said instead. [I know you said you and Izaya weren't actually going out before, but Shinra and I talked it over. We think there might be more going on between the two of you than you think.]

“Like what?” Shizuo said, scoffing. “We haven't talked in weeks. Unless he's secretly stalking me or something, then there's absolutely nothing between us, not anymore.”

[But you like him.]

Shizuo stared at Celty's tiny, phone screen, feeling as though some weight had disappeared from his chest. Celty tended to have that effect on him.

“Yeah,” Shizuo said, blushing a little. “I like him a lot.”

“I knew it!” Shinra said suddenly, standing up with his eyes sparkling. “And since Izaya obviously likes you back, you guys can start dating for real, and – oof!”

Celty pulled Shinra down. He fell back into his seat, although with his enthusiasm unabated.

“Well, why not?” he said, looking at Celty.

Celty shook her head. [I don't know] she said. [Shizuo?]

Shizuo leaned back in the booth, looking at the stupidly hopeful faces in front of him. He sighed.

“It's complicated,” he said.

Celty didn't miss a beat. [Between the three of us, I'm sure we can work it out] she said.

“Exactly,” Shinra followed up, smiling.

Shizuo looked at them, at their eagerness. This was new territory for him. Asking for advice, getting it. All of this was surprising, so new. He didn't know what to do but laugh with a weird feeling of relief.

“Fine,” he said. “ _Fine_.”

And he told them. He told them about (nearly) everything that happened at Okinawa, and he told them how he felt afterwards. How he liked Izaya, how Izaya might be interested in him, physically at least. He said that either way, nothing could ever come of it. Because they were too different. Because Izaya was a fucking ass. Because even if Izaya liked Shizuo in the same way, if Izaya himself wasn't willing to admit it, there was no point.

Shizuo thought about this as he passed under a bridge and gained some reprieve from the rain.

Izaya did like Shizuo on some level. After talking to him just now, Shizuo understood what Shinra meant. It was obvious. Izaya could have just walked away the second he saw Shizuo, but he didn't. He stayed. He talked. He laughed. He lost control. That was the second time Shizuo had seen Izaya so open, so vulnerable, and he couldn't help but try to comfort him that time, just like the first time.

What had happened that time, anyway? Shizuo still didn't fully understand. Izaya came to Shizuo because he was scared? Shizuo made Izaya feel safe? 

Maybe, Izaya liked Shizuo. This lit up a flare somewhere inside of him, because he'd considered it. After everything, all those kisses, all that banter, all those words exchanged that night, he would have been stupid not to. But Izaya was like water. Sometimes it flows one way, sometimes another, and even when you manage to capture some in your hands, it still spills over the sides and trickles through your fingers.

But Izaya liked him? Hearing it from Shinra, seeing it with his own eyes, it made his chest burn and his lips smile, as if they were physiologically connected somehow. He could dream. Maybe, as Shinra said, it was more than a dream. Maybe it was reality.

Maybe. Or maybe this was all some scheme to crush Shizuo even harder than ever before. There was just no way to tell when it came to him, and that's why Shizuo was walking through all these sheets of rain, all by himself, without Izaya.

Because how could he trust him? This was the flea. The guy whose past Shizuo knew nothing about. The one who probably worked for the yakuza. 

Was there anything Shizuo could do, though, if he was already in this deep?

Shizuo unlocked the door to his apartment and walked in, soaking wet. He shivered at the A/C.

Is Izaya okay? he suddenly thought with a sharp twist of worry. It had been getting cold lately, especially with this rain. If he stayed out there much longer, he could catch a cold.

Shizuo froze at his doorway. 

What if he collapsed? he thought. He hadn't looked too well, even before the rain started pouring down. There had been no one else at the graveyard. If something happened, no one would be there to call 119 or help him or anything.

Shizuo whirled around and was almost out the door again, when he stopped himself. 

What was he thinking?

He was being stupid. Hadn't he just been thinking about all the reasons why he should, essentially, break off all ties with Izaya? Anyway, Izaya could take care of himself. What did it matter to Shizuo, anymore, if he was well or not?

Shizuo stood there with his hand on the doorknob for a solid minute, wrestling with himself. Should he go? Not go? What if Izaya was still there, but completely fine? How would Shizuo explain himself then? What if Izaya really needed his help, needed him, and he wasn't there? But it was just a little rain.

Finally, Shizuo thought: if anything happened, Celty and Shinra would tell him. 

Shizuo sighed. He released the doorknob. 

That's right. Shinra and Celty knew what Izaya meant to him. They would contact him right away if anything came up, and they would be the first to know, as his roommates.

Leaning against the door, Shizuo slid down with his head in his hands. He was shaking a little, but from cold or from fear, he didn't know. All he could think about was Izaya, his laugh, his racing pulse just beneath Shizuo's fingers, his smell and voice just inches away. 

Shizuo shouldn't have called out to him. After all those weeks of trying to get over Izaya, this was what he'd been reduced to, after just one meeting. 

Why had he even approached him in the first place?

Right, he suddenly remembered. That girl. She was at the grave Izaya had been crouched over.

"Excuse me?" she'd said. "I'm sorry, but would you mind giving me a second of your time?"

Shizuo had looked at the girl, who'd seemed calm, but insistent, making her seem older than she appeared. 

"Sure," he said, warily.

And she lit up, smiling prettily. She said sorry again, but she wanted him to deliver a message for her. And he said, sure.

The girl had asked him to deliver the message to whoever visited the grave after her, if someone did happen to show up while Shizuo was there. Which someone did.

Taking a deep breath, Shizuo got up off the floor and starting peeling off his wet clothes. 

Izaya. It always came back to Izaya, even random requests from strangers. Couldn't the universe just give him a break?

Shizuo stalked over to the shower, thinking, he could just not deliver the message.

Steaming hot water poured down from the showerhead, painful at first, and then soothing.

The girl had seemed desperate, though. And he'd promised. But he couldn't see Izaya, especially not now. Shizuo clearly wasn't done trying to get over him, and the Izaya right now tugged at his heartstrings a little too much. Even now, he half wanted to run out into the rain, searching for him.

Shizuo lathered the soap in his hands before running it through his hair. He closed his eyes against the chemicals dribbling down his face, reveling in the warm water.

He'll call Shinra, he decided. Shinra could deliver the message for him. 

Shizuo massaged the soap into his scalp, finally relaxing.

That way, he thought, he could also ask if Izaya got back okay.


	12. Just a Moment in Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, midterms are neverending, but so is my love for Shizaya! ...It's okay, you can laugh. It's funny. Hope you guy's enjoy this chapter! (also, bonus points for anyone who can identify where that quote's from)

Izaya wanted to kiss Shizuo.

This was his first thought when Shinra passed along Shizuo's message. He wanted to jump into the beast's arms and squeeze him so tight that he could still feel the warmth of the man's body, even after he let go. All he could do, though, was see Shinra standing in front of him in the living room, staring. And a beat later the feeling passed.

Izaya looked at Shinra's suspiciously neutral face with a neutral one of his own, and he thanked his friend for the message.

Noriko. Shizuo had met with – actually _talked to –_ Amamiya Noriko. What was more, she'd left a message for Izaya. It was short and sweet:

Thank you and goodbye.

This dimmed his excitement a little. Four words. Four completely nondescript words, as per Noriko's style, apparently, but what did they mean?

At face value, the thanks was probably for putting her father to rest, in such a beautiful place at that. As Izaya had already guessed, their relationship had been close, which supported this.

But something nagged at him about this. Noriko had gotten involved with the yakuza. She had been used and abused by someone, and then she'd outright disappeared. Why had there been no evidence of her father trying to look for her? The only thing he'd seemed to be doing for the past few years was outrunning debt collectors, which was important, but more important than his daughter? Maybe he had actually neglected her in favor of his own self-interests, but if there had been no love lost between them, why would she have visited his grave?

“Thank you” could mean completely different things, depending.

And goodbye? That word only ever came after some kind of “hello.” Did that mean they had met somehow, sometime before? Or did she think that having this morbid connection between them, namely her father, allowed for a close enough initial relationship that she could justify breaking it off, by saying “goodbye”?

Or did she just want someone to know that she was going to kill herself?

The possibilities were endless, but what Izaya wanted to know was the right one. He considered what he knew of Noriko so far. One: she was intelligent. She was clearly alive and well enough to speak to a stranger, meaning she'd been smart enough to stay out of Izaya's radar for several months. This was no easy feat.

Two: she read the newspaper. Obituaries weren't really posted online, not in any easily accessible way, and not many people of her demographic read obituaries in any format. Unless she was the type to read news on paper, front to back, no matter the subject. So, she was probably the serious type. The curious type.

Three: she was healthy. At least, she wasn't bleeding out on the pavement or starving to death, either of which wouldn't have merited a simple message from Shizuo. Shizu-chan would have demanded if he knew anything about that girl, if she had looked anything other than normal.

Four... Izaya tried hard to think of a fourth fact, but there were just too many variables. He had only gotten the message secondhand, Shizuo had been the one to actually see her, what she looked like, how she acted, how she sounded, if she smelled or anything, anything at all.

He went back to the second fact: she read the newspaper. How? 1) Trash. If she looked normal, however, he couldn't imagine her digging through the trash for food, nonetheless newspapers. What would she want to learn from them anyway? That assumed Noriko had a plan of her own, that she wasn't just hiding, but waiting, which didn't seem too unlikely considering the air of mystery he got from her, of a hidden perplexity.

Or 2) She picked it up by pure coincidence. It was conceivable, of course, that she had happened to pick up a free newspaper, either as shelter or just curiosity, which happened to be one of the four that included her father in the obits, on one of the few days where he happened to be listed.

Possible. But not likely.

More likely, it was the third option. Someone was housing her. That was why it had been so difficult to find her. Because she wasn't lost, she wasn't running, and she wasn't desperately scrounging for daily survival. She was living comfortably with someone she trusted, who lived close enough to the city to get mail from one of the four major newspapers in Tokyo.

But who? That was the great mystery. She'd had no friends in high school, and her closest relative had been her father. She didn't work a part-time job, so she didn't have any colleagues, and she wasn't a part of any other outside group.

But she knew how to hide, and hide well. She could have had a completely separate life outside of school, under a fake name, which was not only possible, but likely, considering the fact that the yakuza were looking for her.

If she was pretty, she could have been working in the sex industry, as a stripper, a prostitute, or even an actress in pornographic films. If she had a dark streak, she could have been working for the yakuza directly, as a drug runner, informant, or even bodyguard, if she was built. It wasn't unheard of.

What it came down to, however, was what Izaya had been struggling with for the past several months: he had too little to go on. He didn't even know what the girl looked like, since his employers had so inconveniently (and suspiciously) erased all official records of her. There was, however, someone out there who knew what she looked like, someone he had easy access to. Relatively speaking.

And after several hours of debating with himself, this was why Izaya ended up, eventually, standing in front of Shizuo's apartment, knocking on his door.

Shizuo's gruff voice answered from the other side.

“Who is it?” he said, sounding annoyed.

Ah, that's right. He forgot Shizuo went to sleep early, like at nine early. It _was_ dark, but Izaya had spent so many hours mulling over his options, he'd completely lost track of time. He quickly checked his phone. It was almost midnight.

“It's me,” Izaya said.

No answer. Izaya waited patiently. After a second or two, he gave up and knocked on the door again.

“Shizu-chan?” he said. “Hey, open the door. Hello? Shizu-chan, I know you're in there! Hey! Shizu – !”

The door suddenly creaked open and Izaya backed off, shutting up with a smile.

“Shut the fuck up, Izaya!” Shizuo said, glaring at him from the now open doorway.

He was in his pajamas, meaning a t-shirt and boxers, his hair sticking up and his eyes narrowed by both anger and sleep. Adorable, Izaya thought, suddenly. He felt his smile relaxing at this, even as his mind told him to snap to attention. But it was hard, especially when Shizuo had the vulnerability of slumber written all over him like this, from his sleepy eyes to his bare feet. Izaya wanted to hold that body close to him and see if it was as warm as it looked.

“Izaya!” Shizuo said.

Izaya blinked. “What?”

“What do you mean what? You're the one that came and woke me up in the middle of the fucking night! What the fuck do you want?!”

Ah, shit. Shizuo had made his train of thought run wild. Again. Sighing internally, he tried to cover it up with a smile. This was why he hadn't wanted to come here.

“It's not my fault you sleep like someone who belongs in a nursing home,” he said.

“What – !”

“Hey, can I come in?”

“Like hell you – !”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Izaya pushed forward, walking like he would meet no resistance whatsoever, and as a matter of fact, he didn't. Shizuo just let him pass into his apartment like he wasn't just yelling at him a few seconds ago, which raised Izaya's suspicions, but he didn't let it show.

He walked into the familiar apartment, which opened into a tiny, but well-kept kitchen. He strode straight forward into the bedroom, ignoring Shizuo's heavy footfalls behind him, and then plopped down on the couch. Why the idiot had a couch and a bed in the same room, Izaya never bothered to ask, but suddenly, he was curious. Although he shouldn't be. Really, he shouldn't have come here at all.

Shizuo stood in the middle of the room, glaring at him.

“Get out,” he said.

“I will soon,” Izaya said, pulling his feet up onto the couch. “But first, I would like your help with something, Shizu-chan.”

That got Shizuo's attention.

“What do you want?” he said suspiciously, but without cursing, Izaya noted.

He smiled. “So, I got your message.”

“Okay,” Shizuo said, sitting down on his bed. Izaya could hear the “so what?” in his voice. Irritating, as always.

“It was pretty short, wouldn't you agree? Are you sure she didn't say anything else?”

Shizuo frowned. “How'd you know it was a girl?”

“Oh come now,” Izaya said, his smile broadening to compensate for the fact that, oh shit, he'd slipped up. He _really_ shouldn't have come here. “This is me you're talking to. Now, did she say anything?”

“I don't know,” Shizuo said, scowling. “Just what I told Shinra. Can you get out now?”

“She was cute, wasn't she?” Izaya said, ignoring him. He grinned lazily, closely observing Shizuo's reaction.

His face twisted. “The fuck does that have to do with anything?” he said.

Four, Izaya thought. Pretty.

“I was just thinking that she looks a little odd for a high school girl, don't you agree? Even though she is indeed a very pretty girl. Why do you think that is, Shizu-chan?”

“What do you mean?” Shizuo said, still glaring. “She looked pretty normal to me.” He hesitated, as Izaya knew he would. “Well, I mean she talked kind of funny, but...”

“Funny?” Izaya said, perking up. “In what way?”

“I dunno. Like, she was way too calm, or something.”

Ah, no identifiable speech deficit then. Damn. At least, her appearance didn't match her behavior in some way, a difference large enough to be noticeable, even by Shizu-chan.

“Hm. Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. She still wears glasses, I assume? Those always made her look so serious.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said.

Five: she wore glasses.

“People never seemed to take her seriously though,” Izaya continued. “Probably because of the size of her bust – ”

“Izaya!” Shizuo said, standing up now.

Six: she had a sizable chest. That was plenty identifiable in Japan.

“Did she mention me at all? Maybe Tanaka-san, they used to be close – ”

“What the fuck are you trying to get at, flea?” Shizuo said, towering over Izaya now. Izaya nearly smiled. He hadn't heard that pet name in a while.

Focus, focus...

“What did you think of her, Shizu-chan? In all honesty?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Shizuo said. “What, are you jealous or something?”

Izaya stilled. “You can marry her for all I care,” he said, cracking a smile. “She's all yours. I'll stick to sucking off my flat-chested beauties.”

Shizuo reddened, either from anger or embarrassment, or both. “God, I can't deal with this shit right now,” he said. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

“Did you think I was trying to hit on you, Shizu-chan?” Izaya said, standing up, facing Shizuo's wrath with two feet on the ground.

“I don't know what the fuck goes on in your mind, flea.”

That was as good a confirmation as any. Anger flared up inside of him, for some incomprehensible reason, but he managed to keep smiling.

“I'm hear to talk about my old friend, Shizuo,” he said. “Now, I apologize, sincerely, for interrupting your beauty rest, but as you should know by now, these are just my hours of operation. I'm not here for any kind of ulterior motives, not the ones you're thinking of anyway, so let's just sit down and have a civil conversation, ne?”

“I don't care what your motives are, flea,” Shizuo said, glaring at him in his t-shirt and boxers. “I'm fucking tired. I don't wanna sit down. I don't wanna talk. Izaya, I just _don't want you here_.”

Izaya felt his smile falter.

“I can't recall the last time you actually wanted me around,” he said, laughing, looking away. “Does that mean I should just stay away from my precious Shizu-chan forever?”

“Yes?” Shizuo said, like he really wanted to punch the wall. “Isn't that what we agreed on?”

Izaya glared. “You broke it first,” he said, which sounded childish, but well, it was true.

“Fuck you, Izaya.”

“You'd like that wouldn't you?”

They stared at each other, glared at each other, standing close in that tiny bedroom barely large enough to hold Shizuo himself. There was complete silence.

Izaya looked at Shizuo's stupid bedhead, his strong, naked legs, and his slowly softening face. He could imagine kissing him in that moment. He wanted it, was ready for it, but the strength of this desire scared him. Why had he come here, really? After that embarrassing encounter at the cemetery, he'd told himself they would never meet again. At least, not of his own volition. Because maybe this wasn't love, but it was something, and Izaya had no room in his life for something so trivial, or so dangerous.

And yet.

Shizuo's golden eyes weren't squinting at him anymore. They were gentle, exposing that inner core of sweet vanilla pudding that was open to anyone who dared try to penetrate his prickly exoskeleton. Open to Izaya, even when he didn't want it to be.

The beast breathed.

“Do you want to leave?” he said, quietly.

“I'm not that interested in staying,” Izaya said, smirking.

They lapsed back into silence.

Eventually, Shizuo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I'm tired,” he said. “Do what you want, Izaya, but I'm going back to bed.”

Completely ignoring Izaya now, he walked over and turned the lights off. Shizuo crawled back into bed without saying anything else, the old mattress creaking and groaning as he shifted between the sheets.

Izaya stood there in the dark. He listened, for a few seconds, to Shizuo's low breaths, to the quiet hum of the city lying just outside, calling to him.

He needed to go. He shouldn't be here, feeling secret pleasure just from being so close, breathing the same air, smelling that familiar scent. This was all recklessly human, achingly vulnerable. He had to leave. He had to go.

Methodically, he took off his jacket, his belt. He didn't like sleeping with his pants on, so he took those off too. Stepping forward, he climbed into the bed, next to Shizuo, who moved over a bit to make room.

Just for a little while, Izaya thought as a he wrapped his arms around Shizuo's waist, their bodies flush, their bare legs touching.

I can have this, just for a little while.

 

Shizuo woke up to an empty bed. It took him a second to remember everything from last night, but when he did, he tentatively felt the blank space beside him. It was cold. He closed his eyes again. Briefly, he remembered the feel of Izaya's thin arms around him, invisible but for the sensation, and the quiet sound of his breaths against his back. It felt like a dream.

He groaned. Why did the flea keep doing this to him? Why did he keep showing up and talking to him, right after he'd determined to stay the fuck away? Just why...

...did it smell like smoke?

Shizuo sat up. He rubbed his eyes and looked closely at his room. Either his vision was going bad, or the air was a little dense. Foggy.

Smoke. Jumping out of his bed, Shizuo rushed into his kitchen, only to stop dead in this tracks.

“Morning, Shizu-chan!” Izaya said, smiling. The ventilator was humming over the stove and the front door was open. Izaya was sitting at the kitchen table, two plates of ashen, black, _things_ placed in front of him. “Made you breakfast.”

Shizuo gaped. “What – ” he choked out, coughed. “What the _fuck_ did you do?!”

Izaya shrugged, getting back to his phone. “I just told you, didn't I? You need to learn to listen, Shizu-chan.”

“ _Izaya!_ ”

“You know, turns out I'm actually not that hungry. You can have my portion if you want. I'll be heading out first.”

With that, Izaya got up from his chair and walked out the door, waving goodbye with a lazy smile. “See you later~!”

Shizuo didn't even think to chase after him. He went over to check his stove, which didn't seem like it would explode or anything, and then inspected whatever Izaya had left on the two plates.

Judging by the mess he'd made in the kitchen, it seemed like the idiot had tried to make fried eggs with toast. How something so simple could have ended up as this blackened heap before him, Shizuo had no idea. What was even more perplexing, though, was why make it at all?

Shizuo poked at the charcoal-like bread.

Izaya didn't cook, Shizuo knew that. He hadn't even expected Izaya to stay the entire night, but he went ahead and did it anyway. He went ahead and did _this._ His poor kitchen.

Shizuo threw out the “breakfast” and started making his own.

What was Izaya thinking? Shizuo mulled this over as he cracked open a pair of eggs over the pan. He pulled out some bread. What the fuck did he want?

One second, he's yelling at Shizuo, saying there was no way he liked him, and the next, he's here making breakfast for him. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

He'd let Izaya in last night because he'd hesitated about touching him. Really, it was because he was too goddamn weak. But why had Izaya come over in the first place? If anything, Shizuo thought that Izaya would have wanted to stay as far away as humanly possible from Shizuo after that scene at the graveyard. If anything, Shizuo would have sought Izaya out first.

He was getting a headache just trying to think about all this. It was barely 6 AM, for fuck's sake. Abandoning the bread, he rummaged out a pack of cigarettes and, leaving the ventilator on, he lit up with a sigh.

Why did he have to fall in love with someone so goddamn confusing?

 

Shizuo thought of this again almost twenty hours later.

He stared out of his doorway.

“What the fuck?” he said.

Izaya just smiled at him.

“Good evening, Shizu-chan,” he said. “May I come in?”

“No you fucking can't!” he said, and he meant it this time. He would do anything to keep the flea out, even if he had to throw him out.

Izaya shrugged. “Okay,” he said. Then, turning around, he started walking away, leaving Shizuo to stare after him.

“Wait, what?” he called out. He stepped out of the doorway. “Izaya!”

Izaya ignored him.

Cursing, Shizuo walked out into the chilly, night air.

“Izaya!” he called out. He started jogging. “Izaya, get the fuck back here!”

Shizuo caught up easily, since Izaya wasn't running, and once he was close enough, he grabbed his arm, forcing Izaya to face him.

He was laughing.

“You are,” he said, cackling as he supported himself on Shizuo's arm, “without a doubt – the _simplest_ human – to have ever existed!”

He dissolved into laughter, leaning into Shizuo and leaving Shizuo himself in a mixed state of bewilderment, anger, and unfounded affection.

“Izaya...” he growled.

Izaya sobered a little, leaning back to look at Shizuo with an odd smile.

“What does that make me, I wonder?” he said.

Shizuo stared, his anger waning. Goddammit.

“You are the most annoying flea in the whole fucking universe,” Shizuo said, too quietly to be threatening. “Damn idiot.”

Izaya smiled up at him, small and genuine, the look just barely there in the moonlight. “Mm. You always know just what to say, don't you Shizu-chan?”

Shouldn't I be the one saying that? Shizuo wanted to bite back, because it was true. He never knew what to say around the flea, never knew what to expect. But it was hard to say anything at that moment as he felt himself melting. Melting and softening at the edges, pulling back from the world to fit inside this brief instant of warmth, snug in his place beside Izaya.

This was what he'd been missing for all this time, he thought. Ever since the beach. For a long time now. This sense of rightness, of fullness. Like a house that smelled of gooey, warm cookies. Like coming home.

He let go of Izaya's arm.

“Why are you here, Izaya?” he said.

“I was in the area.”

“Doesn't mean you have to come here.”

“Doesn't mean I can't.”

“Do you want to be here?” Shizuo said, squinting at him.

“Here?” Izaya said, looking around the walkway that connected the apartments. “It's a bit chilly for my taste, but then again, I've always preferred living without hypothermia.”

Shizuo scrunched his eyebrows. “Wha – ? No! Not _here,”_ he growled. “I meant – ”

“Listen, let's continue this talk inside, Shizuo. You don't even have shoes on.”

“ _Izaya!_ ” he said, but he did nothing to prevent Izaya from walking past him, back to his apartment. His reflexes were still recovering from that moment before, when he looked at Izaya and saw him smiling back.

Shizuo ran a hand through his hair, grumbling as he followed after Izaya. God, what was _wrong_ with him?

He slammed the door shut once they were inside.

“Ah, much better,” Izaya said, shedding his coat onto the kitchen table.

“So are you gonna tell me why the fuck you're here?” Shizuo said. He heard the ghost of the word _again_ hanging off the end of his question.

Izaya looked at him, his face a smile that revealed nothing. “To make up for this morning, of course,” he said.

“This morning?”

“Yes, I made you breakfast, remember? It wasn't too long ago, but I guess I should've expected as much from Shizu-chan – ”

“I remember!” Shizuo said, fuming. “You made breakfast, so what?”

Izaya walked over to the fridge and looked through it as he talked. “So, it didn't turn out exactly like I thought it would. To make up for that, I'm here to make you dinner. Also, I'm kind of curious to know if you tried or not. Probably not, considering you're still walking and talking and all...you know, I wondered this before, Shizu-chan, but why the hell do you have so much milk? You _are_ aware that it expires, right?”

“Milk is good for you,” Shizuo said absently. He was trying to process what Izaya just said.

“Not if you're downing like a gallon of them everyday.”

“There isn't even that much in there!”

“Do you know how much milk we have in our fridge, Shizu-chan?”

“Does it matter? Not like you drink any of it.”

“It matters because out of the three of us, we have just one gallon. _One_. Now, I count in here what, ten, fifteen bottles? That's more than two gallons – ”

Shizuo stormed over to the fridge. “I don't fucking care how much milk I have!”

“Careful!”

Shizuo stepped back instinctively as Izaya stood up, a carton of eggs in hand. He was smiling.

“Need your protein so you can grow up big and strong, ne, Shizu-chan?”

Staring at Izaya, the way he was cradling the eggs in one arm, a hand on his hip as he grinned up at him like a child, Shizuo couldn't help it. He laughed.

Izaya closed the fridge, smiling too.

“I'm going to make the best omurice you've ever had,” he said, confidently striding over to the stove.

"You fucking idiot," Shizuo said, still half-laughing. "You're going to burn down the whole building."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." Izaya threw a smirk over his shoulder, that familiar glint of challenge in his eyes. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Shizuo felt a grin spreading across his face in response; uncontrollable, weightless.

"Yeah," he said. "Guess I will."

 


	13. Can You Love Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so sorry for not updating in forever, life's been keeping me busy. This chapter has a similar time lapse (not intentional), and hopefully it's not too painful? Let me know what you think!

            “…so then Shinra got mad at me for interrupting what he called their ‘alone time’, which, allegedly, I don’t provide enough of, even though I _am_ gone from the apartment pretty much 90 percent of the week, and don’t you think that’s just a little nauseating? ‘Alone time’, like he somehow managed to morph Celty into a third arm…”

            “That’s gross,” Shizuo said. He picked up Izaya’s plate in the sink, washing it with a shrug. “They’re a couple now. What else did you expect?”

            “Some decency, at least,” Izaya said, scowling. “You want to talk about gross? Try waking up to the sound of them _cuddling_ just next door.”

            “When’s the last time you even slept at your apartment?”

            Izaya paused. He glanced over at Shizuo briefly before relaxing back into the counter.

            “Once is enough,” he said. “But maybe you have a point. If I go back more often, I could assert my presence and force them to tone it down.”

            Shizuo scowled. “That’s a bad idea.”

            “How so?” Izaya said, smirking despite himself.

            “It just is.”

            Ah, not what he’d wanted to hear.

            “You can’t get Shinra to tone down anything,” Shizuo continued. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

            “Your ‘try’ and my ‘try’ are two very different things,” Izaya said.

            “Yeah. Your try gets people arrested.”

            “My try gets things done.”

            “It gets some things done,” Shizuo said. He glanced at Izaya, smirking a little. “Seriously, who’s teaching you how to cook?”

            Izaya felt his smile broaden, again despite himself. He had made fried rice tonight, the remnants of which Shizuo was currently scrubbing off their plates. This time, there had been almost nothing left – proof that Izaya could do anything that he set his mind to.

            Even if that was getting over this blond brute.

            “One day, Shizuo,” he said, looking resolutely away. “I’m going to introduce you to the wonders of the Internet, and you’ll never be the same again. Who knows, maybe you’ll even stop smoking.”

            Shizuo scoffed. “I know what the Internet is.”

            “You don’t even have a computer,” Izaya said, sounding wounded, because he kind of was. Who the hell didn’t have a computer nowadays?

            “Who cares? I get Internet on my phone.”

            “That’s _not_ the same thing,” Izaya said, sighing.

            “I don’t see a difference.”

            “That’s because you’re an idiot, Shizu-chan.”

            “You’re the one in love with your computer,” Shizuo said. He flicked some water at Izaya, laughing when he flinched.

            “I’m in love with what a computer represents,” Izaya said, glaring.

            “Still sounds messed up to me.”

            “I’m talking about humanity, Shizuo.” Izaya turned around to lean forward on the counter, putting on his usual smirk. “Computers represent mankind. They’re echoes of what we are; our anatomy, our thoughts, our feelings. We pour our entire beings into them. To have access to such a cold, calculated machine that is, at the same time, so suffused with chaotic, human emotions – it’s simply amazing. As deceitful and conniving as humans themselves can be, this symbol strips them down to the core of their being. It makes them honest.”

            Shizuo barked out a laugh. “You like computers because they’re honest?” he said.

            Izaya scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I said.”

            “Yes, it is,” Shizuo said, smiling. “You said you like something ‘cause it’s honest. C’mon, you gotta admit that’s pretty funny.”

            Izaya threw him a dirty look. “That’s really not what I was getting at, Shizu-chan.”

            “I know what I heard.”

            “Like that counts for anything,” Izaya said. “Seeing as how you’ve got the attention span of a five-year-old who only hears what he wants to hear.”

            “If I heard only what I wanted to hear, you wouldn’t be talking right now, Izaya.”

            “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I wasn’t here to talk to you, Shizu-chan.”

            This time Shizuo threw Izaya a dirty look. “If you weren’t here, everything would be nice and quiet – ”

            “And utterly boring,” Izaya said. He picked up a chopstick, twirling it between his fingers. “You’d go outside and throw a trashcan just for something to do.”

            “Why would I throw a trashcan?”

            Izaya laughed. “You should try it sometime. I heard it’s fun.”

            Shizuo glanced at him as he put away the last plate into the dish rack. “Who do you know that throws trashcans for fun?”

            “Someone,” Izaya said, smirking. “I know a lot of people.”

            Shizuo snorted. “You don’t know someone like that,” he said.

            “Can you prove it?”

            “Yeah,” Shizuo said, turning off the water. “Because no one throws trashcans for fun.”

            Izaya paused, caught off-guard. No matter how many weeks went by talking with him like this, Shizuo’s sheer idiocy never ceased to surprise him.

            Seriously, would he ever get used to this beast?

            “Shizuo – ” Izaya started, half withering, half laughing, but Shizuo cut over him.

            “Give me that,” he said, reaching for the chopstick Izaya was playing with. The move was sudden, catching Izaya off-guard once again, but only for a split second. Stepping back, he held the chopstick just out of reach, and before Shizuo could make another grab for it, he placed it behind his back.

            “Excuse me,” Izaya said. “I was talking.”

            “Don’t be an ass,” Shizuo said, glaring. “Just give me the chopstick. I need to put it away.”

            Izaya backed farther away. “I understand that,” he said. “And you can still put it away once I’m done talking.”

            “You’re never done talking, idiot.” Shizuo took a step forward.

            “No one can keep talking indefinitely,” Izaya said, taking another step back. “Even you must know that, right, Shizu-chan?”

            “You’re not no one,” Shizuo said.

            Izaya laughed. “You know that doesn’t – ”

            When Shizuo lunged, Izaya was already moving. He hopped up onto the little dining table, making Shizuo growl about sanitation – like the beast knew anything about that – and before the flimsy thing could collapse beneath him, Izaya sprung into the air. He was aiming for the doorway to Shizuo’s bedroom, where he would have more space to navigate, but suddenly, he felt a sensation like his lungs collapsing as Shizuo threw his arm out and grabbed him from midair.

            The force from his jump was too much for even Shizuo. Suddenly, they were falling. Izaya’s head banged against the linoleum floor along with all his bony joints, and he just refrained from cursing Shizuo so that he wouldn’t bite his tongue off.

            Once they were safely crumpled on the floor, however, his tongue was fair game.

            “Fuck!” he said, because his pounding head wouldn’t allow for anything more eloquent. “What the fuck, Shizuo?!”

            “Sorry,” Shizuo grumbled.

            Izaya had already opened his mouth to argue against whatever lame excuse Shizuo came up with, but this stopped him. Sorry? Since when did Shizuo just apologize like that?

            Slowly, he became aware of a growing silence. Shizuo was staring down at him, his arms awkwardly around Izaya, the rest of his body still pressed close to him. His face was hovering just inches away.

            “Er, yes,” Izaya said. He shifted a little, looking off to the side. “You should be sorry.”

             Shizuo was still staring. His arms twitched, holding Izaya a little tighter, and Izaya’s mouth went dry. He became hyperaware of every breath coming out of his lips, of the way he couldn’t help biting them, of Shizuo’s breaths falling on his face and the way he smelled. Cigarettes and soy sauce, Izaya thought, two substances he never imagined could work so well together.

            Shizuo licked his lips, looking at Izaya, hesitating. He wanted it. They both wanted it. Izaya knew this for a fact, but did Shizuo?

            “Get off already,” he said, finally. “You’re heavy.” He’d meant to be fierce, light, steady, but it just came off as weak.

Shizuo blinked. Wavering for a second, he seemed to make up his mind when Izaya punctuated his words with a glare. Shizuo started shifting his weight, and in much too short a time, he was getting off, scooping the chopstick out of Izaya’s now-limp fingers.

            Izaya said nothing.

            “Are you sleeping over tonight?” Shizuo said. He went over to the utensil drawer, and the chopstick clattered dully against other chopsticks.

            Izaya grimaced. He didn’t like Shizuo’s tone. It was mocking. Of Izaya or the situation, it didn’t matter. Either way, it was annoying. Izaya sat up carefully, risking a glance at Shizuo, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was staring absently at the sink, as if he already knew Izaya’s answer.

            They had started this arrangement three weeks ago. Izaya walked into Shizuo’s apartment, unannounced, claiming that he had an amazing dinner planned for the both of them, and he just kept coming. At first, Shizuo protested, continually threatening to kick him out, but when Izaya showed no signs of relenting, he seemed to cave.

They ate dinner in silence, at first. This wasn’t helped by the fact that ‘dinner’ never really turned out to be as amazing as Izaya claimed it would be. Cultivating his culinary skills were never the true objective of this exercise, but over the weeks, Izaya found himself casually looking up the best cooking techniques, asking and reading up on various questions in cooking forums, taking mental notes of what seemed to work and what didn’t. After a week, the food Izaya produced actually started to become enjoyable.

            More importantly, it started to make Shizuo more sociable. They started talking over dinner, which Izaya told himself was important, because every now and then he managed to scrape out one more hidden detail about Noriko-chan. It still wasn’t enough, not nearly, but – as he always told himself – it was better than nothing.

            And as they talked and ate and joked and laughed and slept in the same bed, Izaya kept telling himself over and over that this was an indulgence. Yes, okay, he admitted it: he was human. Izaya was subject to feelings of affection, just like everyone else. Still, even if his mortal cage was human, his intellect was godlike. He would get over this. He’d let himself indulge in this twisted attraction for a little while, since ignoring it had done nothing to make it go away.

            He’d take his fill and move on, no regrets. No blood, no tears. Nothing.

            The only thing was Shizuo himself. Three weeks was a long time, longer when filled with lingering glances, tense moments, and inexplicable intimacy during the nights. They addressed none of this, Izaya made sure of it, but more and more lately Shizuo had been getting restless. He fell silent more. He prolonged awkward moments. He reined in his irritation and asked more questions. Like this, he grew more aware, enough to make fun of Izaya, enough to know enough about Izaya, about his feelings, to mock him. In other words, he was hurtling them straight towards some kind of wall. Izaya didn't know where this wall was, or what it looked like, but god dammit if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to keep them the hell away from it.

            He had to be the smart one. He always was.

            “No,” he said now, a little too loudly. “I have some work I need to take care of tonight.”

            Shizuo gave a little nod, still not looking at Izaya.

            He hid his irritation with a smile. “Well, I better get going then.”

            Standing up, cursing inwardly as his bones throbbed, he started to go into the bedroom for his jacket. And then Shizuo finally spoke up.

            “Don’t go.”

            Izaya made the mistake of looking back. Bold, yellow eyes staring at him from just feet away, so striking even though Shizuo himself was wearing just a T-shirt and sweats, his large body leaning against the counter in a pose of deceptive ease.

            Now that he was caught, he couldn’t look away.

            Carelessness, Izaya thought, like a curse. Being with him like this always made him so fucking careless. Just one of the million reasons this needed to end.

            “I can’t,” Izaya said. He blinked and tried to take a steadying breath. “I don’t have the luxury of lazing around like you, Shizu-chan. I have actual work that needs doing.”

            Weak and hasty, but it would have to do. He turned to get his jacket.

           “Cut the bullshit, Izaya,” Shizuo said. “I’m fucking tired of it.”

           Izaya froze. He tried to smile. “Well, isn’t someone a little touchy today,” he said, to the cabinets.

           “Izaya,” Shizuo said. He pushed off the counter, face softening, but only from anger into some kind of hurt. “We need to talk.”

           “I thought you didn’t like hearing me talk,” Izaya said, buying himself time. He needed to get out of this, somehow.

           Shizuo crossed his arms. “I’ll make an exception.”

            “Aren’t you just a saint. Good thing for you, I’m feeling rather angelic myself, so I’ll go now and spare you the torture of my company.”

            Izaya glanced at the bedroom, wondering if he should just leave without his jacket – a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things – when Shizuo took his wrist, forcing Izaya to look at him.

            “No,” he said. “I won’t let you run away again.”

            Izaya didn’t bother trying to tug his hand away. “I’m trying to be kind, Shizu-chan,” he said, gritting his teeth so that his voice wouldn’t betray him. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

            “I want you to be honest.” Shizuo tightened his grip, as if afraid Izaya might break free. Idiot, he thought.

            “I’m honest all the time,” he said, laughing. “You just don’t like hearing what I have to say.”

            “Stop saying shit like that,” Shizuo growled. “Anyway, I’m listening now, so tell me the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

            Izaya paused. He wasn’t sure why this caught him off-guard – other than it was Shizuo, and lately everything he did caught him off-guard. Still, what he said was a blatant lie. If anyone in this world could catch Orihara Izaya in anything less than truth, it definitely wasn’t the idiot blond in front of him. Izaya knew this logically. And yet, those eyes.

            They bore into him like they knew the truth already.

            “The truth about what?” Izaya said, looking away. “You have to be clear about these things, Shizu-chan. Not everyone’s as intelligent as I am, so if you go around talking in that vague way to every–”

            “Do you love me?”

            Izaya flinched. He knew Shizuo felt it.

            “Izaya,” he pressed. “I have to know.”

 _Yes_ , he heard himself saying. _I do_.

            That would get the pushy idiot off his back, right?

            But Izaya looked at Shizuo, and he couldn’t speak.

            He suddenly remembered what it felt like to fall asleep in Shizuo’s arms. His steady breaths going in, going out, just above his head. His steady heart pacing slowly, rhythmically, just behind him. Solid and safe. That’s how Shizuo made him feel. Always, ever since he’d known him.

            And yet, Izaya knew it was an illusion. Nothing about this was safe. It was wild, unpredictable, uncontrollable. Even now, as he wished desperately that he could be somewhere, anywhere, but here, at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to have Shizuo holding him like he always did. Making him feel steady and loved just with his breaths and his heart, like there was nothing bad or wrong with the world. Like there was nothing bad or wrong with him.

            Izaya looked at Shizuo. I love you, he could say. He had said it many times, to many men, and this time, it would even be halfway true.

            He couldn’t say it.

            “I already told you the answer to that,” Izaya snapped, trying now to pull his hand back.

            Shizuo held firm. “When?” he said.

            When indeed? And what was the answer, really?

            “When we were at the cemetary,” Izaya said.

            “Well, you have to remind me. I don’t really remember.”

            “Idiot,” Izaya muttered under his breath, but more as a curse than anything. He looked directly at Shizuo, only succeeding in making himself waver.

            “If you can’t remember something like that, then it obviously isn’t that important to you anyway,” Izaya said, scoffing as he looked away. “So could you let me go? I really do need to get going; I have a lot of work – ”

            “If you go now, I won’t let you come back.”

            Izaya snapped back to those golden eyes that were now neither angry nor hurt, but unmoving. Opaque.

            “If that’s okay with you,” he continued, “Then fine. Go. I won’t stop you.”

            Izaya stared at him, torn. He could go. He really could. Knowing Shizuo, if he waited long enough, the brute would accept him again, eventually. The problem was, Izaya _didn’t_ know Shizuo. At least, not well enough to be able to predict something like that. And looking at him now, Izaya could believe the man would shut down his own attraction, tear himself away, and never let Izaya near him ever again.

            Izaya could believe the beast was that vicious.

            “I,” he started. What should he do? He had no idea. He was dumbfounded. He was left dumb. And it was absolutely terrifying.

            He took a deep breath. He looked at Shizuo.

            “I have to work,” he said.

            Shizuo blinked. Then his face crumpled, collapsing into the center with a deep frown, out of which his yellow eyes gleamed like a wolf’s.

            Instead of letting go, his grip tightened.

            “Izaya,” he said. “I’m serious. If you walk out that door, you’re not coming back.”

            Izaya closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at Shizuo’s.

            “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” he said. Things would have been easier, so much easier, if Shizuo could simply play along. If he could be anyone but who he was.

            Shizuo startled him by laughing. He opened his eyes.

            “ _I’m_ the one making things difficult?” he said. “Izaya, all I want is the truth. You’re the one making things so fucking difficult!”

            “You’re an idiot if you believe the truth is ever easy,” Izaya said. What should he say? What should he do? He couldn’t think. He could barely even feel.

“But of course, you _are_ an idiot, aren’t you? And I’m an idiot for expecting you to be able to read between the lines like any normal, functioning adult.”

His face felt hot, his vision blurry. Maybe he was dying.

“You want to know the truth?” he said. “You’re moderately attractive, Shizu-chan. You’re a good kisser and probably an even better fuck, and your apartment is close to where I come and go for work. I hung around thinking that I could use you for a good fuck, but it’s clear now that you’d only mistake it for love, and truth be told, love is an inconvenience. I’m done dealing with you.” Izaya took in a shaky breath. “You’re nothing but a bad investment.”

             Silence. It took a moment for Izaya to realize Shizuo had let go. Wordlessly, Izaya sidestepped him, and headed for the door.

            Shizuo said nothing.

 

            Shizuo looked at the wall in front of him. It was beige, like the rest of his kitchen, the paint chipped and worn, full of black marks and holes that maybe Shizuo himself had put there. At the moment, he couldn’t remember if he had or not.

            He really couldn’t think at all. About anything. Nonetheless about any kind of decision. But it seemed that his body didn’t need his brain to decide what it wanted, because before he knew it, Shizuo was turning away from the wall and grabbing the wrist he had just let go of.

            Izaya faced him warily.

            Again, without him really being aware of it, Shizuo lifted his hand to rub a thumb under one of Izaya’s eyes. It came away wet.

            “Shizuo,” Izaya said, like some kind of warning, but Shizuo was already leaning down, his hand holding Izaya steady.

            His lips were salty this time, like the first time. They were slightly wet, damp with a few escaped tears, and for all Izaya’s words or warnings or lies, they accepted Shizuo without hesitation. Shizuo slid down the hand that was gripping Izaya’s wrist so that he met Izaya’s fingers, and in a heartbeat, Izaya intertwined them, so that as they kissed and moaned and pressed closer together, they were also holding hands.

            Izaya let go first, opting instead to push his fingers through Shizuo’s hair, under his shirt, and Shizuo shuddered as two rings of cool metal and ten burning-hot fingers traveled over his skin.

            The table clattered as they stumbled into it. Izaya immediately slid on top, wrapping his legs around Shizuo and making both of them spasm at the close contact. Shizuo bit into Izaya’s neck, not bothering to hide his groan as Izaya rolled his hips in response.

            “I love you,” Shizuo said. He kissed Izaya, speaking into his lips. “I love you so fucking much…”

            Izaya just moaned, grinding sharply into him. Holding onto Shizuo with one hand, he snaked the skinny fingers of his other in between them and started unbuckling his belt. Shizuo paused. He leaned back slightly, to let them both breathe. He looked at Izaya.

            Izaya flashed him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

            “Help me with this,” he said.

            He grabbed Shizuo’s hand, navigating it to his belt, and even though Shizuo felt the bulge there, he still looked at Izaya.

            “You sure?” he said.

            Izaya looked back. His dark brown eyes still looked slightly red around the edges, but his whole face was flushed red with lust, with need, with want. All of it directed at him. His red lips, now wet because of Shizuo, curled into a small smile.

            “Yes,” he said. He leaned up, placing those lips right by Shizuo’s ear. “Because it’s you.”

            Before Shizuo could ask, before he could say anything, Izaya managed to tug his belt free, as well as the button on his pants. He let Shizuo work the zipper.

            Afterwards, they lay comfortably on the floor in Shizuo’s room. They had dragged the blanket off his bed, so that they didn’t freeze to death, and Izaya had turned the TV on. A muted murmur of whatever crap show filled the background. The soft blue glow from the screen illuminated Izaya’s face.

            As if he could sense Shizuo’s gaze, Izaya blearily opened his eyes.

            “You’re a good pillow,” he said, smiling.

            “You know I have actual pillows,” Shizuo said, smiling too.

            Izaya closed his eyes again. “If you move, I’ll kill you.”

            “You can try.”

            Izaya laughed at that. He snuggled closer. “You think I can’t?” he said, his voice slightly muffled.

            “I know you can’t.” Shizuo ran his hand rhythmically through Izaya’s soft, brown hair.

            “Challenge accepted.”

            Chuckling, Shizuo kissed the top of Izaya’s head. “I love you,” he said, absently. He had said it, whispered it, so many times at this point that the words came easily, like taking a breath.

            So he was surprised when he felt Izaya stiffen in his arms.

            A few seconds passed in silence, the stuffy, awkwardness growing. Shizuo just held Izaya closer, as if he would bolt up and run away any second.

            Eventually, Izaya spoke.

            “I wanted to ask,” he said. “How come you had a fresh bottle of lube hidden away in your room?”

            Despite everything, Shizuo flushed. He didn’t know if he felt frustrated, relieved, embarrassed, or what. Maybe everything.

            “I bought it, you know, just…in case,” he said. Actually, he’d bought it because Celty had gently nudged him to, bringing up the point that it was better to be safe than sorry. Shizuo had never felt so grateful towards one person in his entire life.

            However, even he knew better than to mention that right now.

            Instead of commenting or – god forbid – prying, Izaya just hummed. After another brief silence, he spoke up again. Shizuo heard the small breath he took before talking, as if seeking courage from the small space between them.

            “I don’t know if you could tell,” he said. “But it’s been a while for me, Shizu-chan.” He laughed softly. “I forgot how good it can feel.”

             Shizuo stared at the TV screen, seeing nothing. He could only think of Izaya’s soft breaths as they landed on his bare skin, of his soft hair against his cheek.

            “Why me?” he said, softly.

            “Because you’re there.”

            Shizuo frowned. He opened his mouth.

            “You’re always there,” Izaya whispered, before he could say anything. He wrapped his arms around Shizuo, pulling them closer.

            Shizuo’s breath caught. He didn’t dare pull away to try and look at Izaya’s face, but god, did he want to.

            “Is that a bad thing?” he said.

            “It’s got its perks.”

            “Izaya…”

            “Thank you,” Izaya said, firmly. “For tonight. For being gentle. For letting me in. For eating all my food.” Shizuo smiled at that. “In return,” he continued. “I’ll answer one question. And I swear on my uncle’s grave that I’ll answer it honestly.”

            Shizuo froze.

            “You don’t have an uncle,” he said, slowly.

            He thought he felt Izaya smile.

            “I still swear,” he said.

            Shizuo’s mind – so sluggish and content before – suddenly went into overdrive. One question? Not fair. Not when he had so many questions, one piled up after the other, and they tumbled around like falling dominoes in his mind, each one just as important as the other.

            Why tonight? Why now? What did Izaya really feel for him, and what had he been doing that night at Okinawa when he stumbled in drunk? How had he found Tomo-kun, why wouldn’t he let Shizuo touch that scar on his stomach, where and how did he get that in the first place? What exactly did Izaya do for a living, why was he at the graveyard that day, when did he figure out he was gay, how many men had he slept with and why?

            Shizuo wanted to know everything. Nothing was insignificant, not even what brand of shampoo he used to make his hair feel so soft and smell so good. Shizuo touched that hair now, calming himself. It was a waste, he thought. But he knew which question mattered most.

            “Do you love me?” he said.

            Izaya took his sweet time answering. After several seconds, Shizuo thought he wasn’t going to answer at all, and he resigned himself to the possibility of having wasted his one question.

            He sighed.

            “Hey,” Izaya snapped, suddenly. “I’m thinking.”

            Startled, Shizuo tried to pull away a little, so that he could see his face.

            “You’re thinking?” he said.

            Izaya pulled back too, so that he could show his face.

            “That’s right. You should try it sometime.”

            “Why do you have to think about it?” Shizuo said, ignoring the jab. Izaya’s face really looked like he was mulling it over, like Shizuo had just asked him to solve a math problem. He didn’t get it.

            “Because as idiotic as your question is, you’ve asked it in all seriousness, so I’d like to reply in kind,” Izaya said, smirking.

            Shizuo sat up, frowning as he stared down at him. “It’s not a joke,” he said. “I’m fucking serious, Izaya.”

            Izaya looked back coolly. “Isn’t that what I just said? Also, I told you I’d kill you if you moved, right?”

            “Izaya,” Shizuo growled.

            “I’m just saying,” he said, shrugging. He looked off to the side, at the TV. “You threw away your one question on something you knew already. A pretty idiotic move, if you ask me.”

            He couldn’t be sure, but the TV light seemed to show a slight blush growing on Izaya’s cheeks. Shizuo's irritation faded almost instantly.

            “Idiot,” he said. “I asked _because_ I don’t know.”

            Izaya looked at him. “Really?” he said, softly. “You really don’t know, after everything?”

            Shizuo reached out to brush the back of his hand across Izaya’s cheek, smiling at the way Izaya leaned into it, like a cat.

            “I think I know,” he said. “But I want to hear you say it.”

            Izaya placed his hand over Shizuo’s, looking up at him with a small smile.

            “I love you, Shizuo,” he said.

            Warmth seemed to grow, expanding, up from the fingers in Izaya’s hand throughout the rest of his body. It shot through him like nothing else, painful for some reason, just as much as it was amazing and happy and exhilarating.

            Shizuo kissed him without thinking. Chuckling, Izaya kissed him back, until he was no longer smiling but gasping, urging Shizuo to go further, just as much as Shizuo was urging him. They made love again, under the blankets, where the heat of their skin and their breaths were echoed back to them tenfold, the world around them blocked out just as much.

            “I love you,” Shizuo said, again and again.

            Every time, Izaya replied, “I love you too."

            Shizuo held on tight to Izaya’s warm body, to his touch, his words, even his smell, wanting to believe that just holding on could let something this dreamlike, this _happy_ , stay with him forever. 

            He knew it wouldn't last, but please, Shizuo begged silently, as he kissed the top of Izaya's head and whispered his good nights.

            Please make it last anyway.

 


	14. The Dark Before Dawn

“Dead.”

Izaya froze, his chest heaving as if still thinking of a way to get rid of the knife at his throat. He scowled.

Shiki lowered the knife with a scowl of his own, as if he regretted not moving the point forward that last millimeter.

“Again,” Izaya added, just under his breath.

Hearing him, Shiki shot him a glare. “Because you’re not paying attention,” he snapped. He ignored Izaya’s flash of warning.

“Orihara-san, if these lessons have become too much of a burden for you, then please let me know.” Shiki turned away from Izaya to carefully place his knife back on the table. “I would rather not waste my time trying to teach someone who has clearly lost interest.”

Izaya relaxed his stance, rubbing the sweat off his face with his shirt. “Yes, because that’s exactly why I’m here, losing to Shiki-san over and over again,” he said, unable to help the bitterness in his tone. “Because I’ve _lost interest_.”

 Shiki gave him a flat look. “We’re done for today,” he said.

Izaya stared at him, still gripping the knife he had become intimately familiar with in the last few hours. The one that still thirsted for blood.

Feeling his own shallow, but stinging, wounds, Izaya resisted the burning urge to fling the knife right in between Shiki’s hard, black eyes. Instead, he forced out a smile.

“I have to check up on some things anyway,” he said.

Shiki turned away, rearranging the knives on his table. “Then don’t let me keep you.”

Carefully, Izaya placed his knife with the others, right on the edge. He ignored the way his hand was trembling.

“Thank you for today, Shiki-san,” he said. “As always.”

“It was my pleasure, Orihara-san.”

Picking his jacket off the floor, he left. Outside, the night was brilliant with a full moon, the streets finally quiet under a blanket of false calm. Izaya huddled into his coat, pulling the hood up against the chill.

He started walking.

Ikebukuro really was quiet tonight. It was the hour of not quite night, not quite morning where people slept like the dead, whether old, young, rich, or poor. Even the underground world kept strictly to the shadows, operating silently, if they had to at all. None of it could fool Izaya into thinking he could let down his guard, but it was almost peaceful.

He hated peaceful.

He hated the way the empty streets, the quiet bars, and the slumbering inhabitants of Ikebukuro gave a hush over the city, giving more voice, instead, to the screaming thoughts that swirled, nonstop, in his mind. Izaya liked thinking. Oftentimes, he spent hours just sitting in his office chair, thinking. Recently, however, his mind had taken over a life of its own, and even if it was his own mind, Izaya hated feeling out of control. Every day, every hour, every minute, and every second, it reminded him, over and over:

He was completely fucked.

He knew that. Logically, Izaya _knew_. Shizuo had tricked him into confessing some portion of his true feelings, before they could become untrue, and now, he couldn’t take it back. Shizuo knew.

He knew Izaya liked to smoke after sex. He knew one of the few times he hated talking was right after. He knew that in the morning, Izaya would be more talkative than usual. He knew Izaya would rather starve than leave the bed first thing.

Shizuo knew too much.

It was like dominoes. Izaya hadn’t meant to confess (because that’s what it had felt like, a confession to some black crime), but once he had, the chain of events had been impossible to stop. At first, it was just fucking. Then they started kissing when one of them left or came back. Then they started to shop for groceries together when their schedules matched. Then Izaya started shifting his schedule around to match Shizuo’s.

He just couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help wanting to be with Shizuo, wanting to talk with Shizuo, wanting to fuck him. His want was visceral, and it was a visceral pain that kept on pulling him back to Shizuo’s side. Once or twice, he thought about getting the idiot killed somehow, effectly removing the problem, but then Shizuo would look at him or say something so ridiculously stupid, and he’d laugh or smile.

It was stupid, all of it. Izaya felt off-balance, flailing blindly on the razor-sharp edge of a rapidly moving knife, and he felt more vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life, even at the brink of death. In the midst of this, all he could do was hold onto the certain weight of Shizuo’s eyes and refuse to let go. It was a vicious cycle, going on and on, and on and on. Even Shiki had started to notice the effects.

He was losing himself, more than ever before.

Izaya thought, suddenly, of Daisuke. He had been stupid then too. Fucking a member of the yakuza, just because he could, just because he intrigued him, just because he couldn’t stay away. Every day, Izaya carried with him a reminder of his mistake. Never get too close, it warned him. Never get so careless.

Yet here he was, getting close. Being careless.

But…was it so bad? Yes, the last time Izaya had nearly died, but he didn’t work for the Awaksu-kai for nothing. Izaya thrived on danger. This was just danger of a different kind, one that hurt from the inside out. He liked to have control on danger, of course – playing in yakuza games was, for him, just like the thrill of riding a rollercoaster. And he could control Shizuo.

This train of thought made Izaya laugh every time.

He didn’t bother to hide his laughter now when he walked into the apartment. He threw his keys on the kitchen table with a clatter of metal on metal and banged the bedroom door open, still smiling. Shizuo groaned from the bed, muttering about pests and peace and quiet.

Izaya felt his smile widen.

Shedding his coat, he climbed in next to Shizuo, and kissed his slightly parted lips. When Shizuo didn’t respond, Izaya kissed him again, lingering this time. Shizuo didn’t even open his eyes.

Izaya scowled. “Hey,” he said, threading an arm around Shizuo’s torso. “I know you’re awake.”

Shizuo groaned, and abruptly, he turned over to face the wall. “Fuck you,” he said.

Izaya scooted closer to kiss the back of Shizuo’s neck, scraping his teeth lightly against the sensitive skin. “That’s the idea,” he said.

“Quit it,” Shizuo mumbled. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Izaya pressed harder, sucking the soft spot with a smile.

“Izaya,” Shizuo growled.

Izaya leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Shizuo and placing his lips just by his ear. “Shizuo,” he breathed.

He felt the shudder run through that massive body. Shizuo turned around.

“You stink.”

“So do you,” Izaya lied, kissing him. Actually, he smelled good, like mint and sleep.

Shizuo kissed him back this time, pressing forward sloppily, still heavy with slumber. Izaya was tired too, bone-tired with muscles that ached and cuts that stung, but he still kicked off the blankets and stripped all his clothes, inviting the beast in.

 

“You wanna talk about it?”

Izaya glanced sideways at Shizuo. He held a cigarette loosely between two fingers and was naked beneath the sheets, leaning against all the pillows and facing the sunrise. Back to the adjacent wall, Shizuo drank in the image.

Izaya took a drag, looking away.

“About what?” he said.

Shizuo tapped his own cigarette on the ashtray between them.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Izaya laughed softly, looking, unseeing, at Shizuo’s closed blinds.

“Are you worried about me, Shizu-chan?” he said.

Shizuo frowned. He took one of Izaya’s hands, tracing a cut there that had opened. Izaya had come home with many like them, on his hand, arms, neck, legs. His blood dotted the sheets.

“Should I be?” he said.

Izaya looked down at his hand, as if noticing the wound for the first time. He intertwined their fingers, hiding it from view.

“Don’t think about it,” he said. He sighed out a cloud of smoke, almost invisible in the blue-dark. He smiled at Shizuo.

Even in the dark, Shizuo could see the grey bruises underneath his eyes. He still looked beautiful, with his soft, just-fucked hair and soft, just-fucked smile. His pale skin was marred not only with cuts, but also dark spots where Shizuo had bit him, loved him. Shizuo loved seeing Izaya like this, cigarette in one hand, blowing out smoke through freshly-kissed lips.

He didn’t like to be bothered, when he looked like this, and neither did Shizuo. He was usually content to sit there in silence with Izaya, basking in the warmth and sweet tiredness.

“I can’t not think about it,” he said.

“It’s easy,” Izaya said, taking another drag. “Just do what you normally do, Shizu-chan.”

“Normally, I’d kick you out for being a little shit.”

“Too bad this little shit is so good in bed.”

Shizuo scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s why I keep you around.”

Izaya hummed, leaning against the back of the bed with a thoughtful look on his face. Shizuo wished he could take a look inside, see what exactly went on in that block of mystery between his ears.

“You know,” Izaya said. “Why do you keep me around?”

He looked at Shizuo, his sharp eyes intense like always, whether he was smiling or scowling. He wasn’t smiling.

“You’re hard to get rid of,” Shizuo said.

It had sounded much better in his head, but Izaya laughed anyway, a short burst of true amusement. It was interesting, how Shizuo could tell the difference between his laughs now.

Izaya looked at him fully.

“But if I was gone,” he said. “Would you miss me?”

Shizuo rubbed his thumb over the cut on Izaya’s hand. He didn’t even flinch.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

Shizuo didn’t know where Izaya was going with this, what game he was playing. They were speaking quietly, though, holding hands after sex. Smoking while waiting for dawn to rise. He decided to play along.

“Your laugh,” he said. “I like it when you laugh.”

Izaya chuckled softly. “Is that all?”

“I like the crappy food you make.”

Izaya blew a cloud of smoke in his face. Laughing, Shizuo brought their hands up to his lips and kissed Izaya’s cut.

“I like the way you talk and the way you move,” he said. “I like your smell. I like that you’re smart and a fucking idiot. I like the way you make me feel.”

Izaya put out his cigarette. He looked up at Shizuo.

“What do I make you feel?”

Shizuo smiled.

“What do you think?”

Rolling his eyes, Izaya climbed over the ashtray and into Shizuo’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Shizuo’s neck. He kissed his lips, once, twice.

“Don’t try to act all coy, Shizu-chan,” he said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

They had just fucked. Shizuo had been tired even before, but he still shuddered at the sensation of Izaya’s naked touch.

“Hold this,” he said. Before Izaya could say anything, Shizuo placed his cigarette into that sharp mouth. Izaya smiled.

Shizuo pulled Izaya closer, his lips trailing down Izaya’s jaw, neck, shoulder, chest. He whispered the words he knew Izaya wanted to hear now, for some reason, as they moved again in rhythm, in the sunrise, in Izaya’s cloud of smoke.

“I love you, Izaya. I love you, I fucking love you…”

Izaya laughed in his ears; light, relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for leaving you guys hanging, but I kind of ran into a wall with this story and wasn't sure where to go. I wanted to incorporate some more angst with Noriko (and Daisuke), but I got kind of attached to seeing Shizaya all happy for once T.T I might come back to try and finish the story this summer, but for now, I leave you with this last image of the two lovebirds together in Shizuo's apartment. Thank you for your comments and for keeping up with me till now, and I'm really so, so sorry for ending it like this!


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